Hey Friends! Happy Tuesday! Today I wanted to share a story my friend left in the comment section of my “Something Very Important Post.”
If you remember, the post was about loving your body and being confident in and proud of who you are! I met Brenda (the writer of this story) when she came to style our first house for a feature in Better Homes and Garden’s DIY magazine. (She also wrote the article!)
Brenda is an incredible story teller and has such a way with words. As I read her “comment” I thought to myself, “Brenda needs to start a blog, I would read it every day.” I love what she shared and just had to repost it here for everyone else to benefit from. Enjoy Brenda’s wisdom and wit!
Kara, thank you for this post. Since I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you and working with you, one of the things that struck me about you was your passion and your love of pushing yourself and competing.
I’m not that way. Competing, even just pushing myself to be better, doesn’t work for me. There are lots of reasons for this. Don’t worry about me, because I’m getting therapy to work through them.
I bring this up because I think you are saying there are lots of ways to love your body. Here’s something incredible that happened to me this summer that helped me love mine:
My husband and two friends were hanging out on a lake with only a paddleboard and some beer to entertain us. None of us had ever been on a paddleboard before. Being the oldest and maybe wimpiest of the four of us, I hung back.
Matt the skateboarder tried first. He figured his skateboarding skills would easily translate to the paddleboard. He couldn’t do it.
His wife tried next. She’s one of those people who can do anything. She can sing karaoke. She can play the trumpet. She can power through. She got up once, but not for long.
Then my husband tried. He is super competitive and was raised in a family that wins. That’s just what they do. He flailed around, stood up, made it look super fun, made us all laugh with his crazy pratfall.
I’d been watching them all, noticing that they were being so forceful and aggressive when, to me, this looked like something where you don’t fight the water, rather you go slow and go with the flow–kind of a whole yoga zen sort of thing. And then that part of me that so often keeps me from trying started playing the same old things in my head, “If they can’t do this, how could you? You’ll look like a fool. You are older than them. “
But then the new part of me spoke up, the part of me who has been slowly emerging in the past two years, the me who at age 45 started a brand new career, the one she’s always wanted, the part of me who wants to take chances and not be limited by her past notions of who she is and what she can do.
They were surprised when I said I’d like to try it. I mumbled something about how I know I won’t be able to do it if THEY couldn’t do it, but I need to try. Plus I added, it will give you all something to laugh about later. They hollered advice and be carefuls from the dock.
But then, it was just me and the water and this vision that I could do this. “Getting on is the hardest part,” they shouted. “You have to go fast,” I heard as I slowly and quite easily came to a kneeling position on the board. I sat in frog position for a while, just breathing deeply, just feeling the pulsing of the water.
I stood up. I raised the paddle above my head victoriously before placing it in the water and stroking first on the right then on the left. Right left right left right left…
Then I heard cheering. I looked towards the dock to smile at my friends, but they were so far away. The cheers were coming from a group on a pontoon boat far from the dock. They’d been watching us the whole time.
I was far from shore and suddenly sucked out of my “I can do this” trance. The old me said I was screwed. This was beginners luck. How would I get back to shore against the current? I sat down on the board and started imagining how embarrassing it was going to be when these drunken pontooners had to pull me out of the water and get me back to shore. The girls on boat with their tans and their bikinis would be relieved when they saw how my new Esther Williams retro one piece swimsuit that had made me look cute and shapely from a distance couldn’t hide the cellulite on the back of my legs once you saw me up close. This would be yet another epic Brenda meltdown caused by self-induced pressure and crippling self-doubt.
They were close enough now to start talking to me. I was trying to put on a smile and find that self-deprecating joker Brenda who deals with these situations for me. She said,”I hope you guys have enough beer to share with me, cause I may be stuck out here for awhile.” They said they had enough beer and I was welcome to join them, but wow, was this my first time? Because I’ve totally got it down. Going back will be easier. You got this.
And you know what? I do have this. I have this every single day. I will try to remember to channel it and use it and make it my default mode.
I thanked them, stood up and paddled back towards the dock. As I got closer and more cocky, I started to plan how I’d effortlessly glide right up to the dock and step off like it was no big deal at all. But then I checked myself. There was still a chance to make this an epic Brenda fail by falling headfirst into the dock, getting a concussion and negating this whole victory. I got off the board while still in the water and somewhat awkwardly drug it back to shore.
But still, I’ve got this.
Brenda, thank you so much for sharing your story and your gift of writing with us! I love that you are embracing who you are and finding your confidence- what an encouragement to us all! Hugs and kisses to you friend….and to everyone who needs a reminder that “You’ve got this!”