Monday, March 16

La Psyché
Berthe Morisot, 1876
The shape of a woman's body seems to be something that has captivated every civilation through out history. The ideal varies from place to place. The Greeks seemed to perfer women to be heavier, more able to bare children. The overwhelming culture in the United States seems to prefer women to be skinny, in shape and toned. Their stomachs flat like a man's. Who knows where that comes from really. Most will say its the ideal forced on us by advertisments, but I suspect the advertisers got that ideal from somewhere else first.
Regardless of where that has come from there is no doubt that it is here. I'm not that ideal. I'm far from it. I have always rejected the notion of the need to obess about weight. I have never been skinny. I haven't always been fat though. I gained weight when I was pregnant with my daughter and never quite felt the urgent need to lose it. Oh I have dabbled in weight loss over the years. Mostly due to wanting cute clothes that are hard to find in my size. (I'm too fat for skinny clothes and too skinny for fat clothes).
Now there is another reason. Health. I'm not in any danger of falling over dead anytime soon. My blood pressure and colesteral levels which are checked more than most people's with my never ending doctors visits are all good. Better than good. Still, I look around and see old people who have to carry around extra weight and it doesn't look like fun. I might not die, but life might not be as fun as it could be if I were in better physical shape. If I could run up 2 flights of stars or walk 10 miles I would be better off. I might even be able to walk into a store and find something in my size.
We'll see how this goes.

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