Wait, Weight, don’t tell me.

In January, Parlay House events around the country were all about burning the trauma we wanted to get rid of from 2023 and writing love letters to ourselves for 2024.

Like everyone else, I had plenty of things to burn and set nearly all ablaze.

I lit on fire the memories of other people’s views of me, shaping my own self-perception. I used a flame-thrower to decimate the times that I carried other people’s trauma as my own. A little more gingerly, I singed (and then forgave) my mistakes, smoked out my perfectionistic tendencies, and, on a larger scale, I pictured my frustration with world leaders being tossed into a bonfire and tried to imagine a better world for us all in 2024.

But as I said, I let ALMOST everything go.

I can’t seem to let go of how hard I am on myself about my body.

It’s kind of crazy. I’m nearly 62 years old, and I still compare myself to how I used to be. I also compare myself to how other people are now. Fitter, thinner, stronger.

Rationally, I know this is ridiculous.

Emotionally, I can’t help myself.

I’m my own worst critic.

I’ve been in this loop for a long time.

During my freshman year of college, surrounded by 2,000 women who often seemed smarter, fitter or more centered than I felt, I battled bulimia in reaction to gaining my “Freshman 20.”

While I moved past that dangerous behavior by the time sophomore year rolled around, my early adult years were a mental battle not to let my weight define who I was or how I felt about myself.

I found freedom in my “mom years,” focusing much more on having babies, raising adolescents, and how my daughters felt about themselves. Like most parents, the presence of children necessitates a shift from “me” to “them.” In that period, I slipped into a positive cadence of thoughtful eating and religious exercise that meant I didn’t need to self-scrutinize or obsess.

But my girls grew up and moved into their own lives, and I was left with more time to think about… me.

My empty nest came with an open window to self-scrutiny.

From that view, I can see that over the years, my skin has lost its firmness, muscle tone is harder to build, my waist has become my “middle," and the real aches and pains of disease and aging often feel daunting.

I can also see that the years that caused sagging have brought perspective I couldn’t have had until now. It’s time to tip the scale back in my favor.

Yep. It’s time to write that love letter, and I’m going to write it out loud here:

Dear me,

I want you to look at your glass rather than your “hourglass.” It is so much more than half-full.

Despite the things you can’t change (like the flow of time), you’re thriving. Most of your faculties are in place. Your body moves well, and in the rare times that it doesn’t cooperate, you’ve gotten great help and have found ways to manage the pain.

You get yourself to the gym and the pilates studio. You are thoughtful about what you put into it, both literally and figuratively. You are doing most of the things you can do within your control, and when you mess up or fall down, you get right back up.

What’s more, your body knows how to use itself for good. Whether it’s giving a big hug to someone who needs it, carrying your granddaughter in a way that brings you both joy, or walking arm in arm with a loved one to provide balance, you’re doing great work.

You’re not airbrushed, girdled or hiding in moo moos.

You’re real and you are mine.

So I will work on treasuring you, forgiving your lapses, and celebrating your accomplishments in the same way I celebrate those things for the others I love.

We’re in this together till the end, and I choose you.

Love, Anne

What do you want to burn, and more importantly, how can you find new love for any piece of yourself that you’ve been hard on?

Share it Small: Write that love letter to yourself. Address it, stamp it and give it to someone you trust to mail it to you in another month or two. It’ll show up as a reminder of how worthy you are of love and acceptance.

Share it Big: Many of you didn’t know that I’m struggling with ABI (aging body image) issues. But I know I’m not alone in this. Let’s put it out there, talk about it, share the realities, and reassure each other that we have each other’s backs as we face the inevitable and often beautiful chapters of evolving in this world.

Share it with me: We all learn from each other. If you have had a revelation, a breakthrough, an insight, or a triumph, we can learn from you, so please DM me here! I'm collecting stories of these cascades of good for ongoing community building and to track The Parlay Effect in action. I would love nothing better than to hear how you lifted, were lifted, or observed something in others that made you feel good and recognize your own power.