Taking Me Back

I'm posting this for one reason - it's a break through.  I wanted my blog to continue chronologically because I am a Type Small A personality and order has always been in my life... but I had to write this.

Trying to mix up my cardio (as I am recognizing NOW that weight training can only do so much when you have another 50 lbs to lose), I decided to join a belly dancing class with a fellow friend.

I missed the first two classes - no childcare one day and recovering morning from a big Valentines' Day Feast I throw each year.  So I walked in the yoga studio fairly confident.  Knowing how far I have come so far, this step into a group class was less scary than I had thought.  Four weeks ago, I started a Zumba class an hour away from my house to join a group of girlfriends who swore by it - difference between this class and my new class - full length, see all that you can see mirrors that stretched and deformed your body the further you walked away from them.

I entered in the class, put the little hip scarf around my body (the one with the bells and chimey things on them) and was ready to move my hips.  I felt pretty confident.  I wore a spaghetti strapped black tank and pair of skin tight capris yoga pants.  I felt good.

Then the 20-something instructor walked in with a few teen girls and only two participants over the age of 30.  All of a sudden, as we stood in a long horizontal line across the width of the hot yoga room, all looking in the mirror at each other, I flashed back.  This has rarely happened to me - reason being, I am pretty good at pushing my feelings aside and staying completely disconnected with my body and mind.  So I allowed the flashback - let me paint the picture for you.

I am 13 years old.  I hit puberty at 11 so was fairly developed and already showing signs of being an overweight kid. Still had that pretty face and a head full of blond locks that sometimes distracted people from what was below my neck.  I wanted to take dance lessons.  I was never into any sort of group activities growing up.  Don't know why really - just never was.  So I approached my parents wanting to take Jazz.  When we went to the orientation, full body leotard was mandatory - no t shirts, shorts; no hiding of your body so the instructor could see form and 'grace'.

I was already nervous.  Knowing my body was different and having to wear a full length, skin tight stretchy thing was making me sick to my stomach.  And to top it off, for the first class, it was that time of the month.  And we are looking back to wear discreet feminine napkins weren't on the market yet.  So here I am, trying to fit into this electric blue outfit my mom had gotten me, with a new set of boobs and no hiding the fact I had my period.

I was there - in front of that mirror where it was impossible to hide - with many slender, pretty girls to either side of me.  The class was 45 minutes and I received great feedback from the owner and instructor.  But I decided I didn't want to return.  I really can't remember what I said to my parents or what their response was but that was it.  My one, feeble attempt at joining something where I could opening express myself and it was only me that prevented me from doing it.  And at the young age of 13.

You may ask, how did this experience impact me moving forward?  Well, I could no longer hide from the fact that I was different.  I had a body like no other I had known.  This is when I officially starting writing in my diary about how I was different - how, one day, I wanted to wear the torn jean shorts and neon yellow tank top (come on!  It was the 80's!).  I still have that diary.  And as I read entries from almost 25 years ago I see that they are almost identical in spirit to what I think and feel now.

Twenty Five years of pushing away my feelings and awareness of my body.  That's a quarter century.  That's nuts!

Now, here I am, feeling what I felt when I was only 13, at the age of 36 in among a class of women who are physical opposite of me.  My hips are big, my backside jiggles, my boobs are still big!  But, the difference now?  I am aware and embrace my feelings and make sense of where those feelings are coming from.  And, I now see the amazing transformation my body is going through.  I can keep up with the smaller women in the class (and honestly, when holding our arms up for as long as we did, I kept mine up the whole time!  Not some in the class).  When on my tippie toes, I have a defined calf muscle.  My bulge around my mid-section is almost gone - that hip scarf fits around me no problem.  Yes I was sweating like a pig, but that mostly had to do with the room being set at 32 degrees.  And what else?  I had fun!  I might have had moments of being self-conscious because I was comparing, but I reminded myself every second that I was here, for me, and I was getting stronger because I worked through that hour with confidence and determination.

And... I'm going back next week.