I had a cuppa coffee and a chat with a colleague who was once physically fit and active, but no longer. About splitting a humungous slice of cake, he said something like, ‘I really shouldn’t, I’m trying to lose weight, ” apologetically patting his stomach with both hands. It occurred to me that his physical appearance and softness is something new to him. As hes inly been an executive for a few years, in this stage of his middle age. He was a tall muscular active-duty officer for the prior 30 years of his life.
That he felt shame about his body—or at least that’s how it appeared—made me a bit sad. Espceially since I’ve done the same to myself, with no positive result.
My epiphany is this:
You gotta embrace the body you have, not the one you use d to have...cuz it’s the only one you got.
Longing for your 25-year-old figure is akin to a mortal sin—like coveting your neighbors ass. Except that you are coveting your own ass. And again, that ass is never coming back.
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