Have you ever looked at a photo of yourself, having the time of your life, and you forget all about the day and zero in on all of your body flaws? Yeah, me neither. ;) Like, I didn’t even notice the flabby belly, the squishy thighs, the too large shoulders, the chunky bum,  or the farmer’s tan, you guys.

Here’s a tale of competing voices – which one will win? Which one do I want to win?


Wow, I have the shoulders of a football player. Why do my traps grow so fast when I lift?

I just put 75 pounds over my head! FEAR THESE TRAPS, FOLKS.

My love handles are jiggling. My love handles jiggling. My love handles…

What a beautiful day. I can’t believe I get to run with a friend this morning instead of working in the office.


Why can’t I ever lose weight on my thighs? My boobs are certainly have no problem losing weight.

My thighs tell the story of a woman who lifts heavy and eats gleefully and passionately.


I can’t wear these shorts. It’s hot, but there’s no way I’m showing my legs.

It’s hot today. I think I’ll wear shorts. Which ones are clean?


If I had known saggy boobs were the price to pay for breastfeeding…

Thank you, God, for letting me nourish my children.


**won’t make eye contact with body in mirror**

Oh hey, is that a mole on my back? I better check myself from head to toe.


Wait! Let me see that picture! Don’t you dare post that!

Thank you for thinking I’m beautiful. I love that picture.


If only I could lose these last 10 pounds.

Hmmm…I’m eating all of the foods that make me run faster, lift heavier, have more energy, and not yell at people. Maybe my body likes being at this weight?


Am I the only one who has a double chin every time I try to take a selfie?

Smile and keep your chin up, Deb! That’s it, now the other one..and the other one…perfect!


My saddlebags are hanging below my shorts line.

These thighs can squat triple digits. Hell yeah.


I can’t wear this bathing suit. Or this one. Or this one. I’m not going.

Paddleboarding? I think YES!


Her butt is so tight and firm. I wish I was 22 again. Even though I hated my body at 22.

**too busy focusing on nailing this yoga pose to notice anyone’s better-than-mine butt**


**Hugs strategically so as not to let hugger feel love handles**

Alllll the hugs! Keep squeezing me! Harder!! Hug me till I pop!


I used to be thinner. It used to be easier.

I used to care what people thought about my body. God, those were some hard years.


Everything delicious makes me fat. That’s it, I’m going to start cutting fat and counting calories.

I’ll take the burger, hold the bun. Please add double avocado, bacon and a fried egg. Double side of steamed veggies, please and thank you. **Also, deletes the “before” picture in my phone and stops waiting for “after.”


I don’t compare with her, or her, or even her. I’m less. I’m older. I’m fatter. I’m slower. I’m less pretty.

No one has what I have to offer to the world but me. Also, get your ass off of social media, Deb.


I’ve actually said all of those negative things to myself the last two weeks. I know I should listen to the positive voice, but that’s not always the way it goes. I just listened to this podcast —> Body Image and Fat Loss for Women (seriously, go listen!) and had an epiphany. I ask myself this: which voice would I rather speak to my daughter with? Do I deserve less? Why do I speak to myself in a voice I would never use with my best friend? Why am I not my own best friend? Do I think that punishing myself will make it all better?


Time to re-wire. It’s time to notice when the voices of self-defeat, self-hate, self-loathing, and unforgiveness show up, and shut them down. Over and over again for as long as it takes. It hasn’t helped me lose weight before and it’s not going to, now.


Time to love and encourage myself as much as I love and encourage others.

As a wise woman once said, Mother Theresa never complained about her thighs. She had shit to do.

Go forth and do all of the important shit, my ladies. Stop worrying about your damn body – we’re too smart for this.