Secure in my insecurities

I received an email from a friend recently that was her babbling (her words, not mine) about her insecurities.  It was an interesting email to me for a couple of reasons. First, I'ver never thought of her as someone with insecurities and second, it got me to thinking about a couple of things that have taken place the past couple of days.

Before I get into it, let me warn you dear readers.  I'm feeling overly opened these days and not afraid to write things, or say things out loud, that I might have shied away from previously.  I won't apologize if it's too open for some of you (stop reading). All I'll say is my blog is a journal for me.  Many personal things I keep out of the blog for good reasons - there still needs to be some mystery.  However, this journey I'm on I want to share. My hope is maybe, just maybe, someone else out there reading this blog will get a morsel of advice and change their lives.

In my thirties I remember hearing from a friend of mine who was in her 40's the following phrase:  "Once you are in you're 40's you start to accept yourself without question." I remember thinking at the time how ridiculous that was.  Women never accept themselves.  We're designed to question every wrinkle, every fat cell, every grey hair.  Ahhh the shallow mind of a 30 year old.

Now, well into my 40's (is 43 "well" into one's 40's?), I'm starting to think she was right.  I've definitely felt more comfortable in my skin the last several years. There were still some insecurity demons that showed up every now and then, but I felt mostly comfortable. Mostly.

Being fat for most of your entire life (I say most because I have photos of a small, petite little blond girl, who the MomUnit says is me) means, often, that you are FULL of insecurities. You have a lack of confidence in so many situations that you often fake it so people don't see the missing confidence. I have had a handle on the "fake it until you make it" attitude for some time. In fact, I'd be willing to bet if you polled my friends most, if not all, would say they thought I was a confident woman. And in many areas of my life I am, just not all.

On Saturday as I sat in the hard, cold chair in the Jenny Craig waiting room I was waiting for the lack of confidence, the shame, the embarrassment emotions to wash over me.  I sat. I waited (I was early you see) and the emotions never came.  I peeked into my emotional vault to see what was there. Why wasn't I feeling those emotions that I'm so familiar with?  It felt different this time.  I actually felt *gasp* confident. I wasn't faking it, or was I? I struggled with this for a brief moment. Testing the waters to see if I was, in fact "faking it" or did I actually feel confident sitting there?  I glared into my insides to see - testing it over and over again. Each time, confidence existed.  I was, to say the least, a bit taken back. "Huh?," I thought, "how odd."

I left the weigh in a little lighter in the pocket book, but with a plan. Well, and some frozen food.

Yesterday I signed up for a gym.  Gyms are intimidating to me. They're full of physically svelte people who have eaten right their entire lives. Healthy to the max.  At least that's the story I tell myself.  Soon after I tell myself that story, I follow it with, "Its no place for you." Get in my car and drive away.

I called and made an appt to get a tour. Ryan would be who my appt was with.  I arrived early, shocking I know, and Ryan was ready.  I was waiting for the judgmental up and down glare he'd give me. I mean he's working in a gym and he's HOT, surely he's judging me.  Ryan introduced himself and we started or tour.

Immediately he asked what brought me in.  My lips were ready to form the standard sentence, lie really, to tell him what he wanted to hear. Instead, I spilled the truth.  I explained to Ryan what I was doing with JC and why I now felt I needed some exercise. 

Again I waited for the judgement.  Instead Ryan said to me, " "We all have to start some where. You've made a right choice today." "A" right choice.  Not "the" right choice, but "a" right choice.

The tour continued and I asked questions I normally wouldn't ask. As I was waiting for the handsome Ryan to run my credit card I realized that entire time I walked around with my head held high. I felt secure. I felt proud of myself. I felt confident. FELT confident.

I walked home amazed at this new emotion. This new feeling of security.  My instinct is to over analyze this and figure out WHY am I feeling secure kicked in immediately.  And I will look a bit into it, mostly so I can keep it going. I think I have an idea as to why. I'm happy.  Happy with my recent choices.  And maybe, just maybe, that happiness is driving this security.