Saying Goodbye to my Goal Pants

Sorry size 6, it’s over. It’s not you, it’s me. We want different things, and I deserve someone who can embrace me for who I am. I’m tired of being obsessed with you, and for trying to make it work between us. You are toxic, and a dream that is not really mine, but one forced on me by what society says I should want. I’m tired of worrying about you, and for trying to force something for so long that wasn’t meant to be. So I’m sorry, it’s over. Move along, because you are not my destiny.

And I said to my body, softly, “I want to be your friend.” It took a long breath and replied, “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.” ― Nayyirah Waheed

I’ve been gym rat status for about two and a half years now, and while I’m more confident in how I look than I ever have before, body image issues continue to pop up. I know I’m not alone in this, and many of my dear friends feel the same way. It’s time to embrace who we are, where we are. I’m tired of working my ass off to try to fit a goal size and weight.

I look in the mirror and am amazed at the work I’ve done. Muscles showing where they never have before, less jiggle happening when I do my jumping jacks, and I feel like a million bucks. But then I stand on the scale or try on my goal pants and those numbers don’t line up with what I thought they would or match how I feel. I find that when I look back in the mirror all I see are flaws in places I was previously proud. My body didn’t change in those 5 minutes, my mind did.

So I’m done with it. I’m done with these stupid goal pants stealing my joy. Pants should never be a goal. Health should be a goal. Feeling strong and good about myself should be a goal. Being able to run up the stairs holding my 43-pound kid without being out of breath should be a goal. But not pants.

I’m ready to listen to my body when it tells me what size it wants to be.

It’s been telling me all year to cut it out and embrace it. That I’m a proud size 8, and I was built this way. My body wants to be this. This size and shape is in every fiber of my being. My genetic blueprint calls for a strong, toned size 8. Curves that don’t quit and hips that can hold a laundry basket like nobody’s business. Fitness and exercise makes us our own best self, not someone else’s. Just like my eye and hair color, my shape was made to be uniquely mine.

Time to embrace this beautiful and one of a kind masterpiece that is me.

This post originally appeared on Living the High Life. It has been reprinted with permission.

Katrina High

Katrina High is a working mom of a sassy preschooler, recipe corner cutter and craft beer drinking yogi. She keeps it a little too real and has a tendency to try to balance too much. You can find her on Living the High Life or on Facebook.