Sunday Random Musing

Backgrounder : what inspired me to write this post? Two things:

I spent a few minutes going through my closet looking for a top I hadn't seen in a while and it dawned on me ... I need to populate my eBay listings because I have pieces that I can no longer fit into.

And then ...

A friend from years ago, Joan, tweeted about wolfing down a large bag of Cheetos all by herself. I reacted by telling her that it's okay, because she's so tiny anyway. Then we ended up tweeting each other about how growing old's a b*tch ... yadda yadda yadda. (Joan, you have a lot less right to complain compared to me because you've always been so tiny!)

I've never been ashamed to admit how old I am. Never lied about it, not even as a joke.

I'm 43. I'll be 44 this year (in November). I've been on this planet for 43 or so years. I graduated college in 1990, when most of you were entering high school. Speaking of high school, I sometimes look at old photos of me at this stage to remind me of how much better I look today. Don't most of us feel that way? I was a walking bamboo stick back then. No meat, just skin and bones. In college, I remained that way all throughout. In fact, I never owned a single sleeveless top because my arms didn't deserve the exposure. I'd buy the smallest size available and bring the piece of clothing straight to the modista to have it adjusted to my size because it would fall off otherwise.

That went on until I left college and started working. I finally tipped the weighing scale at 100 lbs sometime during my first job. It was a major milestone for me.

Then it all started to change after I had Sabine 6 years ago. Even after I had Anissa, I easily went back to my pre-pregnancy weight and was able to wear off and get away with wearing a bikini until she was 10. After giving birth to Sabine, I noticed the rapid changes. My metabolism went from fast to semi-fast then slow. My sleeping hours changed. I used to be able to survive a whole day without being sleepy, even if I spent the previous night partying. Today, I always say, all I need to do is sit down on a comfortable chair and that's it. I can fall asleep without even trying. I've officially entered that dreaded LOLA stage!

Physical changes have also become noticeable. Once while in the shower Sabine matter-of-factly said, "Mom, your tummy is jiggly like jelly." Then one time, Anissa asked me, "Mom, those stretchmarks ... are they gonna stay there forever?" Yup. Painful to hear. After years of complaining about never ever gaining enough weight, here I am today, wishing I had my 25-yr old body again. My weight is okay, I don't need to lose pounds. But these frigging inches are just so annoying! I shouldn't really rant about it though, because I'm never the kind to exercise. I've never been to a gym and the last time I took up a sport was when Anissa was a toddler. That episode didn't even last long enough for me to notice any changes. 


I've said goodbye to bikinis, tight-fitting baby tees, "free-sized" clothing in general. I've also moved up a size from strictly Small to Small, sometimes Medium (okay, okay most of the time Medium). In fact, in some stores where they make their cuts too small, I'm sometimes a Large. Gah. 


My friends will probably curse me for writing this post because people insist (and this is the part where I'm going to brag a bit) I'm not fat. I didn't say I was. I'm just saying I'm not what I used to be and I have problem areas, too. I guess the main reason people don't want to believe me is --- and thank GOD for this --- I have super skinny legs. Yeah, like chicken legs. I know how to flaunt them and I never used to but now I know I have to, to take the focus off the other parts of my body that I'm not loving. 


So there. In closing, I'd like to say that inspite of all these imperfections, given the choice, I would still like to look the way I look today. I'm 43 and people have a hard time believing it. Never mind the bulges, the stretch marks, the slow metabolism and the averse reaction to late nights out. 

Growing old's a b*tch, I know. But it really depends on how you look at it.