Life in 100 Words

A Unique look into life, 100 words at a time.

L is for Love Handles

image It was around 11 o'clock at night,  I had just gotten home from work and the only thing on the tv screen were infomercials. That's when I saw it: wanna know the secret to the perfect hour glass shape? Try hour glass angel, the waist trainer that gives anyone a smooth silhouette! After I looked at my extra wide waist accompanied by love handles I ordered the "miracle product."

As a child, I was told that beauty equals pain. Those nights sitting between nanas legs with the hot comb,  those stiletto heels that you wore to the club trying to be cute or in this case, a waist trainer. we were programmed to equate pain to beauty. The more painful, the more beautiful.

My main objective for buying this waist trainer was to get rid of my love handles.

The one part of my body besides my belly that I'm the most insecure about. The one part of my body that was a daily reminder that I was fat. Those damn love handles.

Those same love handles that hang over my jeans and that I cover with high waisted jeans and long t-shirts.

Those same love handles that were nonexistent during highschool because of my track body and high metabolism, but made an unexpected appearance in my adult life due to college and birth control.

Those same love handles that are the first thing my man grabs when he hugs me.

It's hard enough to live with love handles in a social media filled world. We are reminded everyday that we're not beautiful or attractive because we don't have a perfect hourglass figure.

We are reminded constantly on Instagram and Facebook by celebrities who either are naturally small or surgically enhanced that we too can have a perfect figure by wearing waist trainers and drinking slimming teas. It's enough to make you scream!

That week I spent waist training was very painful, but I told myself that generational lie: pain is beauty. I told myself that if I wore this waist trainer enough I would be more attractive, I would be able to wear crop tops and be sexier for my man, I would be beautiful. The waist trainer did improve my posture , But after being breathless because I had it clipped up tightly and after I saw that it left dark indents on my sides, I threw it away and looked at myself in the mirror.

Then I came to a realization,  I am beautiful just the way I am.  I am worthy of every compliment, smile, flirty repartee given to me by perfect strangers. My size does not dictate my beauty.

It's ok if I have a little extra on the side and  if my love handles were bothering me so bad, that I could just go to the gym and diet instead of seeking a miracle in a wired band or nasty tasting tea.

I've learned to take it as a compliment that my man loves to hold on to my love handles and pull me close to him.

We need to stop telling ourselves that beauty equals pain. True beauty comes from acceptance. It's being able to see what the media and people deem as a flaw as a unique part of you and that is painless.

Unfortunately I couldn't get a refund from the waist trainer, but I can look into the mirror and smile because I love my skin, my shape, my weight, my body as it is. Hey, they don't call them "love" handles for nothing. 

This post is part of The Layers of Beauty Tour created by GG Renee of All the Many Layers. Follow the tour through the blogs of 25 women exploring the complexities of womanhood and beauty from A to Z. Click here to keep up with each post and enter to win a giveaway package of goodies for your mind, body and soul. #LayersAtoZTour