Brave? Nah. Just happy.

Four days ago I jumped into the 100 Days Project  and decided I’d do 100 days of yoga.

I chose yoga as the thing I’d do for 100 consecutive days because yoga is something I discovered and fell in love with about a year and a half ago.

But scheduling and the kids and responsibilities and a disorganized and cluttered house made it impossible for me to get to a class or attempt to  practice at home.

Then I finally cleaned out the office and transformed it into a cute and cozy playroom for the kids, and that’s when I realized I had also created the perfect spot for a yoga studio.

Why did I choose yoga as the thing I wanted to do for 100 days?

Because I miss it. Because parts of me are feeling weak. Because I’m having some trouble calming down. Because I need something to help me focus just on my breath. Because I’m tight and tense and because there are areas of my body and my brain that I want to be stronger.

So I committed to yoga for this project, and when you participate in it, there are two requirements: 1. You will repeat a simple creative task every day for the duration.
2. You’ll record each days effort.

So this really started out as a thing for artists.  But you can do anything. So for the past four days I’ve been (literally) recording some yoga poses that are a challenge for me, because at the end of 100 days I want to be better at them. I’ve been posting short videos on Instagram (notyouraveragemomofficial) and on the Facebook page.

Now I won’t lie. I wouldn’t mind being a little tighter. I’d like to firm up some areas of my body.

But that’s not the reason I chose to do this.

It mostly bothers me that I’m super inflexible, and I really want to be able to do a handstand.

And I feel like I’m turning sometimes to food to deal with stress, and I want to change that. Not because I don’t like my body, but because I want a healthier (and more effective) way to deal with things that are bothering me.

So anyway, the first pose I recorded was crow pose. And I was wearing a sports bra and leggings.

I never would have done that ten years ago. I would have been embarrassed by the state of my body.

But not anymore.

I’m really proud of my body. It has produced amazing children and just recently it ran the Boston Marathon.

My body has carried me through literal and figurative marathons these past few years.

It’s not anywhere near shredded and it’s got a few extra pounds on it, but I don’t give a flying fuck because my body is a machine!

 

When I looked at the video of my crow pose, you know what I noticed? It wasn’t my soft midsection.

It was my upper arms.

I could see some muscle there, and I thought to myself, my arms look strong!

But the one comment I keep coming back to that someone left in response to the video I posted was, “You are so brave in your sports bra!”

I’m not bothered by it. It was meant to be supportive.

But let’s say Jennifer Aniston was doing that same pose in that same outfit.

No one would call her brave.

Why not?

Because her body looks different than mine.

Simple as that.

So really, that comment was saying, “Wow! You are so brave for wearing just a sports bra when your body is nowhere near perfect!”

When did wearing a sports bra and no shirt when you don’t have a six pack make you brave?

I’m not brave. I just don’t really give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks anymore.

And I finally, after 46 years, realize what makes me happy.

And it sure as hell isn’t a fat-free stomach.

When I was  30 years old, I weighed less than 120 pounds. That’s about  thirty five pounds less than I weigh now. I was a size 2.

And I was a fucking disaster.

My stomach was flatter than it had ever been. My waist was tinier than it had ever been.

And I was also way more fucked up than I had ever been.

I for sure was not happy. There were not many parts of myself that I felt good about, even though my outsides were as close to flawless as they would ever be in my lifetime.

But now things are different. I’ve learned some things.

I’ve learned that what makes me happy is doing what I want because it’s what I want, and not because it’s what I think someone else wants.

What makes me happy is attempting to do things that scare me. And succeeding. Or failing.  But either way, knowing that I tried.

And what makes me happy is realizing it’s not my body that defines me.

And realizing it’s my attitude that does.

A yoga body is anyone who possesses a body and does yoga.

And you know what else?

My imperfect body totally is perfect.  It’s kept me going this far, hasn’t it?

So no.

I’m not brave in my sports bra.

I’m just confident.

And I’m comfortable.

And I’m happy.