It's your face or your arse!

I heard this phrase years ago.   It was in a recovery group somewhere and a woman who had put down one addiction was now finding she had started to eat regularly for the first time in her life and was putting on weight.  The reality was that she was actually only just beginning to eat like a healthy human being again after years of being emotionally numb and disconnected from her body and her natural appetite.

She had lived for twenty years in a consistent state of malnourishment and was still painfully thin even though she was incredibly distressed because she had put on five kilos.  She had the arse of a young athletic girl with a flat stomach and no hips and her body looked like she was fifteen, however her face had no softness to it and was hard, stale, tired and aged beyond her years.  I know that look because I have seen it looking back at me in my own mirror in past years when I lived in full flight denial of my self respect.  This woman was in so much distress because she had just turned 40 but looked nearly 50 facially.

It was around the coffee urn afterward that I heard an older and wiser woman go up to the distressed newcomer and say to her very matter a factly, "Sweetheart, it’s your face or your arse once you hit 40, you can only save one if you want to stay sober and sane so you better make a choice now"!  And also ask yourself the question whilst contemplating your answer; do you want to attract a partner that falls in love with your face as you age or your arse?

I was so grateful to have heard those words almost ten years ago.  And they have been my mantra anytime fear raises its head and tries to convince me that I should have the body of a young girl.  And of course packing to come to the beach with my two sons and their young, beautiful, goddess like girlfriends I must confess I stood at my underwear drawer for longer than usual tossing up whether to pack the beige Bridget Jones suck em in undies, or just my friendly, colourful relaxed ones.

You see, I like the fear fuelled woman who I heard ten years ago in a recovery group I like many women, was once trapped with the belief that my arse was the measure of my worth.  She like I, knew nothing else of what it is to be a happy and whole woman.

As I heard more of her story over the years, it seemed she had an absent father, and a mother who was obsessed with plastic surgery, younger men, being a good time party girl who loved a full wine glass more than people. At the age of 70 her mum looked like a trashed ashtray who was angry at men and the world and only could maintain close relationships with animals.  Anyone who challenged her mother or wanted her to relate, feel, love, cry and connect was made wrong.  For her mother sold her the lie that as a woman ages she loses her value and that all men are bastards and only really want a woman for her body.  

What a relief it is to learn that a man who is connected to his own heart and his woman’s will love her face first, for it is where her heart speaks to him with her eyes and her lips.  He will also love her bottom the shape of it he understands will change with years, as will his shape.  The look of love is what holds his heart, not her bum.

As I walked along the Noosa boardwalk after sharing a lovely Italian meal with my King, Mr. Delicious and my sons and their gorgeous girlfriends, I was so grateful I chose the friendly undies to come on holiday with me. The sun is out, it is time for the beach but before I go I would like to share the Word Vitamins I will be swallowing this morning with you.

"Life is a grindstone and whether it grinds you down, or polishes you up, is up to you."         L.Thomas Holdcroft