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Shit or get off the pot <3

A year ago I wrote a piece called “A Word About Summer Arms,” in which I:

A) admitted my disdain for my mildly ‘corn dog’ arms, and

B) decided to accept them.

And I did: I accepted that my body is strong and my beauty is true, at any size. Yet two months ago, I had this epiphany…

We were at a hotel pool. I was sitting beneath my sun hat on a chaise lounge, writing, and asked my daughter to take a picture of me; I wanted to pin that moment of perfection to my bulletin board. But then I saw my arms. And they didn't feel right.

“Take it again,” I asked her, three times. (I would’ve asked more but didn’t want my insecurity to catch.) Finally, I succumbed to reality: The look of my arms was not going to change.

And then it occurred to me -- It was time to shit or get off the pot! For years, I’d done nothing to work out my arms: My exercise routine consisted of 30 minute walks, (runs, when stressed) and squatting while I peed.

So why was I acting like a helpless victim? I'd had endless opportunities to change what I didn't like -- so why was I not taking them? Why was I just loafing around in discomfort, all out of my bodily integrity, as though there were nothing I could do to change that?

I'm not powerless, and neither are you! The things we don’t like can [oftentimes] change!! If we move to change them!

And I did. So now… for the past six weeks, my exercise routine has consisted of 30 minute walks/runs; squatting while I pee; and doing seven minutes of Tracy Anderson Arms while sitting on my ass watching Bridgerton.

My arms are taking well to this routine -- they’re feeling sculpted and lean. And, my integrity is intact: I am being the person I want to be.

I can accept myself and yet better the things about myself that I don't like and want to change.

With love,

And badass arms,



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