Today is my 39th birthday. This used to sound like such an old age when I was young- almost 40 eeek! The only real distressing part about getting older for me is the impact on my fertility but I feel a sense of calm knowing that I have my transfer coming up.
I’m writing this from the floor of JFK airport because I’m returning from a 48 hour trip to Buffalo for my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. I’m so glad I was able to make the trip even though I just started the new job two months ago. I’ll be back in October for a side trip after a work conference in D.C. and their is a decent chance I might be pregnant for my return. I get butterflies just thinking about this.
Over all it was a great visit despite having to share a bedroom with my 12 year old nephew. He’s a great kid but I would have appreciated the privacy and he talks ( loudly) in his sleep.
I found myself falling into old patterns by seeking approval from my mom about my weight loss. Despite all of the work I have done ( and I know it’s a life long project) I was disappointed she didn’t say anything about it and I went out of my way to bring it up. I’m so mad at myself for seeking her approval so I tried to think about why I regress so much on the body positivity front when I’m home. It’s a long and complicated history. I love my mom very much but she definitely reinforced the idea that thin = happy. And took me to Weight Watchers when I was 9. But I’m also aware she did this to protect me because kids were being assholes and she wanted me to be happy and she was doing the best she knew how to.
She also has her own weight related demons despite being a pretty tiny person. As we were leaving the party she remarked to me that she has to lose 15 pounds. It was so sad that this was her main takeaway from such a great day but it’s her journey And I just can’t go down that road with her. All I can hope for is that I can pass on to my own kid that their body is amazing and wonderful no matter what.