I've read that opinions are like assholes ... everybody's got one. Here's mine. ( Ahem, my Opinions! Not booty!)

Swedish Supermodels

A long time ago I worked on a cruise ship. I know I’ve covered this before – but for the first time reader’s benefit, I’ll recap … (Also, I’m desperately trying NOT to make the self-deprecating remark of “First time reader, HA! Hey Mom -my one and ONLY reader!)

I’m 20 years old and I’m dating a guy who I’m crazy in love with. We’d been separated by distance for a couple weeks, and when I return to the ship I overhear him yapping about some Swedish model that had been on the ship the week prior. I’m paralyzed by the jealousy and insecurity that this makes me feel. A Swedish model? The tone used to describe her just oozed “human perfection”. Ack! How could I compete?

I find myself camped out on the floor of my friend Frances’ cabin. It’s hours later, and my ego is still feeling rather beaten and bruised. I’m ranting and venting, and really – hurt. Frances tells me that she saw the Swedish model at the gym. “Was she as perfect as they all made her sound?” I ask. Frances goes on to explain that the flawless Swede is in the gym in an outfit that is workout-video worthy, with a full face of makeup, and Pantene Pro-V hair. Frances (a natural beauty, whom I was convinced was so wonderful and beautiful that she herself might have snatched up said boyfriend) told me she’d been on the treadmill in an oversized athletic shirt, hair high in a tight ponytail, sweating her ass off – when the Swede walked in.  Everybody stopped and stared. And then she said something so perfect, that it has stuck with me ever since: “Duh they looked. She put a lot of effort into her look. You get what you give. Get dressed to the nines and go to the gym. See how it goes”. It made perfect sense.

I’m sure I harbored the insecurity of the Swedish model for a bit after that conversation with Frances – but the chip on my shoulder definitely lessened. And something else clicked … there is a lot of room for beauty. There’s not just one pretty girl in the world. My boyfriend noticed a pretty girl? So what? It didn’t mean I suddenly wasn’t pretty to him anymore. And Frances was right – you get what you give.

Why is this story relevant? It’s about reaping what you sew.

I’ve been rather hard on myself as of recent. I’ve gained some new curves, and lost some definition. I’ve been particularly cruel to myself over the change – but let’s discuss all the {NONE AT ALL} effort I’ve made at bettering myself. I don’t think I have any right to be critical if I’m not working towards making a change. It makes my voice moot, doesn’t it? I’m not doing much sewing, so there ain’t-a-lot-ta reap, you see? I’m pretty lucky that this is the first time in my life that the food I eat is sticking around for longer than the meal … it’s a fork in the road. Go one way, shut the negative voice up, and accept those curves! Or go the other direction, work your tush off, and enjoy your Madonna toned arms. (HAHA, that’s ridiculous. And NEVER. Those arms scare me!) All the same … I think it’s time that I hold myself accountable for my negative thoughts. I don’t get to have an opinion if I’m not backing it up with an action.

Parables are hard, and I’m not totally convinced that my Swedish model lesson has anything to do with my last paragraph, but people, I TRIED. And now we know that I’m sure gonna try and silence my negative thoughts with positive action. You try it too!

Monroe in the Know

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