Comparison won’t just steal your joy, it’ll kill it and bury it in a desert far, far away.
My best friend is getting married.
Naturally, I’m going to be a bridesmaid, along with about 11 other girls (don’t ask). She messaged us all (in the notorious group message format) asking our sizes for the dresses we’re wearing. A size 8 here, a size 10 there, and then BAM! there I am in a size 12 (which I know, is far from enormous, but still larger than everybody else).
And you know I thought about it. You would too.
But it wasn’t bad. I’d usually say I’m a 10, but I have hips (and thighs) which I have grown to love, and we’d heard these dresses came up tight on the hip area.
I noticed that most of the bridesmaids were slimmer than me. They wore smaller dress sizes. But then I thought about it. I asked myself this question: ‘Am I unhappy with my body?‘ The answer was no.
I couldn’t be happier with my body. My abs are coming through slowly but surely, my arms have never been this tight, and my butt is looking lifted. I’m slim, healthy and strong, and it doesn’t matter that someone else might be slimm-er, healthi-er or strong-er.
I think it made me realise (again) that the numbers are just numbers; it reminded me that we can’t and (shouldn’t) compare ourselves to others; and it forced me to look at myself, look at my progress, and be honest – not least with myself – about where I’m at.
Listen up folks. Forget the scale, forget the measuring tape, forget the girl on the treadmill that looks slimmer, or the guy who lifts more; focus on yourself and your progress. Are you able to do more reps than you ever could before? Awesome! Can you fit into your old pants again? Great! Do you no longer break out in a sweat just from walking uphill? I’m happy for you.
Progress looks different for everybody. No two seeds from any tree grow identical plants. Set your own damn milestones; don’t use numbers or people.
/Femi, The Girl Who Hates Working Out
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