• Kim Q. Ivey

Loving the skin that you're in

Updated: Jun 13

I have to say it. None of the bodies in this picture are appealing to me. Not at all. This is not something I aspire to or want to celebrate. This new loving your body as it is, i.e., cellulite, fat booty, sagging breasts, big belly - what do they call it? "The body conscious" movement?? Well, it's an absolute turnoff.

Thus, my body at 202 lbs, which was my weight on my 54th birthday this year, disgusted me. Made me ill.

I'm down 12 lbs here on June 11 and though I am grateful and thankful that the Lord is enabling these pounds to come off after years of abuse, I'm not able to celebrate it.

I'm still 190 lbs, literally 52 lbs heavier than I was 4 years ago at this time.

Do I want to be 138 lbs again. No. I was too skinny. It wasn't a good look for me either. But yes, I WOULD LOVE to feel how I felt at 138 - the amount of energy, the ease of moving my body. I was amazed at how I could move, stretch, bend, run, walk in that 50 year old body after having fought that first battle to lose 40 lbs.

Why did I allow it to all come back when I was in such an amazing place?

It's incredible how I allowed the stresses of life to put me back in the same, unhealthy, overweight position, but this time in a perimenopausal body, devoid of much of the hormonal strength I need to move and bend and stretch the way that I did 4 years ago.

My feet are agonizingly painful now, every morning getting out of bed and any time I sit for more than 15 minutes. It's indescribable. I never experienced this when I embarked on my journey to run the Paris Marathon.

I fell in love with running and thought I would do it for the rest of my life. I still do. I've started a plan of walking with a goal of running again by the fall. Yet, this older body is fighting me every inch of the way,

I have to battle discouragement because, though I'm working hard - walking a difficult, hilly 3 miles a day, 6 days a week, no longer consuming volumes of alcohol every night, not gorging on fatty foods while watching tv, getting more sleep - the weight is falling off so slowly and I see no real change in my countenance (fat face), my football shoulders, my swollen belly, my huge, rubbing together thighs and my sagging, heavy breasts that sit on my fat stomach.

None of my clothes, even those that are of the right size, look good on me. My ankles and hands are losing their elasticity, as is my neck. I was blessed with years and years of not looking my age, but now the grey hair around the edges, the wrinkled ankles, the age spots, the multitude of spts/moles on my back and under my breast, tell the story of a woman who looks like she's, at best, her late 40s-- but definitely NOT in her 30s, which had been the norm for me, even in 2017.

There's a picture I took in November 2017 that I use for my Slack Photo at work. It's a selfie and it's a beautiful pic. My hair is a great length, having grown quite a bit that year. My face and eyes are clear, beaming, bright and happy. My lips are plump, with a sexy red lip gloss, my neck firm, my teeth gleaming.

Today, I have a chipped tooth that is slightly yellowing on the bottom and another tiny chip on a top front tooth. My hair is dry, limp, thinning. My neck loose. My lips swollen and darkened. Black circles under my eyes, the whites of my eyes dull and yellowing.

So no -- I don't love the skin that I'm in.

This is toxic skin. Skin abused by alcohol, undue stress, shame, anger, resentment, regret, debt, loneliness, depression and anxiety.

And I'm not gonna jump on the body conscious bandwagon. I'm not gonna stand in a mirror and look at this beat up body and face and declare "You are wonderful, You are Beautiful, You are Pretty, You are Great - JUST THE WAY YOU ARE!"

I'm not.

I won't accept this version of me. It's a perverted, horrid version of me. It's a version of me that has been bred from inner and external turmoil. She has to go.

These first 12 lbs are just the beginning. This time, they will not return. They are gone forever. As will be the next 10, and the next 10 after that - until I get to the weight I sensed the Lord desires me to be which is 155 lbs.

My flesh is not going to make it easy. In fact, my body is making this the hardest thing I've done so far in my life. When you have to battle for yourself through agonizing pain and food deprivation - not forced, literally, no real appetite and minimal enjoyment of the food I do get to eat - it's just plain discouraging. I'm not depriving myself, by the way - I'm eating whatever I want - but doing my best to do so when hungry and until full. The problem is - I'm never really hungry - but if I don't eat, my stomach starts cramping in this odd way that isn't hunger pangs. Frustrating!

When I lost the weight in 2016-2017, I started 17 lbs lighter. I did the 21 Day Little Black Dress Challenge at Kinetics and loss 12 lbs. So I was quickly at a fighting weight of 173. Within a month of that, there was noticeable change in my face, arms, chest neck and back. I looked smaller and felt smaller. I still wasn't there, there. I had almost 20 more lbs to go, but they steadily came off so that by March, I was pretty much at 148 - a weight I loved. I felt great, looked great. It was awesome.

It will be awesome again - and for good. There will be no next time. This time. For good.

Father, I give you praise for finally delivering me to a healthy weight of 155 lbs - and keeping me there. That despite the aches and pains and the difficulties, You are victorious in my body. You have renewed my youth. You are transforming me by the renewing of my mind. The old has gone and the new has come! I am wearing the clothes that I've wanted to wear again and the new items that have yet to touch my body. All large sized clothing in my closet have been donated to goodwill. I will never again in my life buy an XXL or XL article of clothes for myself, or a dress, shirt, skirt, pants that are larger than size 12. I am leaner, stronger, and more flexible with each passing moment. As I sleep, my metabolism works in overdrive. My muscles are rebuilt. Each week, when I view my body in the mirror, I see a renewed me. When I view my reflection, I always see what is appealing and not what causes me to shutter. I am healthy. I am me without all the dross.

I'm Kim Ivey!

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