"I should have...lost more weight..."
Says my grandmother, stricken with Alzheimers and dementia and confined to a bed for years.
"No, no, no Grandma. Your body made three amazing children which led to me which led to my children. Your body did exactly what it needed to do."
My grandmother passed yesterday. The end of a long season of waiting and wondering when God would take her. His timing is perfect, and yet we were all surprised.
I don't know what to say except: Please. My lovely friends. DON'T be like Grandma, wishing for a smaller jean size on her deathbed. It's the middle of a pandemic. It's the season of each year that diets and "resets" and companies know they can make money gaslighting people.
My grandfather, the great man who he was, didn't care about Grandma's pants.
Nobody gives a rat's ass about the size of your pants. Nobody (who really loves you) cares about your double chin or "full face." Sure, "be healthy" because you wanna live longer and be around for your children. Stop drinking so much alcohol or eating so much sugar. But make sure that's your real motivation, not some vain crap. And I am speaking as much to myself as to you. I struggle with the accepting the "quarantine 15" as much as anyone. I pick apart my "chin fat" just like I did when I weighed 115.
I mean. I love my grandma, and always will. But let's learn. Let's not wish on our deathbeds that we were skinny. Who. Frickin. Cares.
Let's live our lives not dependent on our pants size. Let's live our lives independent of our chin-fat. Who. Cares. Not Jesus! He loves us because HE is perfect, not us.