I am taking a HUGE risk publishing this, but as part of my own journey and forcing myself out of my comfort zone, I can only accomplish this by taking a risk. And it is hope I don’t lose you as a reader as the final word is just an important in how we get there…
Certain, in fact most, activities in life are burdened by physical limitations. And if you have not yet experienced this, good on you. If you have always fit into the airplane seat, if you have always walked a day at an amusement park without having to stop to put baby powder between your legs and if you have always enjoyed the finer more intimate details in your love life without limitations, way to go!
My eldest is the smallest in her class and she told me the other day that because she is the shorter out of her locker buddies her backpack and coat are the first to go in the locker. Minor details, but for someone with a physical limitation, very real to her. As a plus size woman since the time I can remember (around grade 8), I have been limited.
I don’t know how the conversation started, but I reflected with a friend on my continued journey and my desire to lose another 50 pounds. When asked what the extra weight meant to me, I replied with, “It is limiting me”. I didn’t qualify that statement, so the question was further probed. Limited in doing what? It was an easy and forthcoming answer, “Doing monkey bars and having counter sex”. Now, the conversation of course led down a completely different path, but I have since reflected on my non-filtered, Adina-to-the-tee response and I began to think – what does that mean?
Monkey bars – easy. One of my first physical goals when I started at 295 pounds was to do cartwheels with my daughter. There was a period of time there that she and all her little friends only traveled by means of cartwheeling. It was an amazement to view on the play ground and something that intrigued me enough to try. What seemed effortless and oozing with swan-like grace to her and her 5 year old friends, was nothing short of a disaster and anxious-ridden task for me. For six months, I couldn’t even get my hands on the ground. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. But as my physical being changed, my mental capacity and confidence widened, and I did it. I was watching her in our backyard on July afternoon, and I said, I’m doing it. And I did. Now, it’s monkey bars. I will do monkey bars. But holding 200+ pounds on the smallest wrists God ever granted is tough. But I’ll get there.
Now, counter sex. For many of my close (and not so close) friends, they know sexuality is important to me and who I am as a person. And I don’t mean in the dirty and naughty way (well, maybe not all the time), but I think we are all sexual beings first. Desire, want and feeling needed are basic. And even though I have always lived the life as an internal sex-kitten (love that term, Julia B.), my outward awkwardness and heaviness didn’t allow me to express myself as I have always wanted. You know that scene in The Notebook (movie version), where after Noah and Allie are reunited and take that lovely canoe ride back in the pouring rain, they enter the house and he passionately and with purpose lifts her up and presses her against the wall as they experience each other after seven years of being apart? Well, that! Counter sex is much more a metaphor than anything else. We all, all of us women, want to swept away and pressed up against the wall. I would not expect anyone to effortlessly grab me by the hips and toss me on the counter when I outweigh him. And my stature is tiny. I am only 5’4″ so the thought of jumping up on a counter BY MYSELF is daunting enough. To put the ‘weight’ on his shoulders to somehow get my short frame up on a fairly high counter is ridiculous. And quite honestly, I would never have the confidence to even attempt this in fears I would end up with a broken hip or bruise on my head. Again, more of a metaphor but even the literal translation is not in the cards.
So, what? Well, the monkey bar and counter sex response forced me to consider my WHY. And guess what, dear reader? I haven’t had one. I haven’t reflected, focussed and made real my WHY – why everyday I get up and do what I’m doing. And if you don’t have that real, make your mouth water, squeeze your hands around it’s neck reason to get shit done every day, then what happens? I’ll tell you what happens, you stop progressing. Monkey bars are a goal, but definitely not my WHY. The counter sex and feeling like a woman who can accomplish anything she wants without limitation, THAT is my why. I don’t want to be limited, in the bedroom, kitchen or anywhere else my sweet ass may take me. I no longer want to have to explain why I don’t know what a Lulu Lemon looks like inside (recently I had to go in to grab a donation) or what an Abercrombie and Fitch is. I don’t want to have to mentally say NO to anything I want to experience. And there are a hell of a lot of things out there I don’t even know exist because of what my weight has limited me from seeing, experiencing, tasting and loving. Once limitation is broken, I can only imagine what lies ahead.
I have been crazy focussed over the last week and it is scary. It is scary that this is it. This is the feeling that I have been missing. Focus (not on the scale). Determination (not to “not” eat A or B). Experience (nothing negative but all positive). I am elated that I have found my WHY and even though it is entrenched in a little naughtiness found on the kitchen counter, what it stands for is so, so much more.
Find your counter sex and make that your mantra until which time, you find yourself in the arms of your man experiencing it for the first time.