Throughout my life, I’ve been labeled with various descriptors (especially if you look at the comment sections), but “slight” has never been one of them. I’m not small by any means, and that includes my weight; those BMI charts suggest I’m carrying a bit more than I should. I have a solid pear shape, my arms jiggle when I season my food (I’ll admit, I do it enthusiastically), and I’ve got rolls reminiscent of a breadbasket when I sit down. Let’s not forget the “flap” I have to tuck into my jeans.
This situation might seem more understandable if I were a couch potato indulging in nightly ice cream, but that’s far from the truth. In fact, I’m quite the opposite. I teach group fitness classes at two gyms, and on days when I’m not instructing, I ensure I work out at least 30 minutes at home. If I go more than a day or two without breaking a sweat, I start to feel sluggish.
I’ve even managed to incorporate movement into my “day job” of writing, which is typically done at a desk. Thanks to the Microsoft Word app, I can write articles on my phone while strolling around my home. This adds an extra 5,000 steps to my day. On average, I’m clocking in 15,000 to 20,000 steps daily, equivalent to walking 7 to 10 miles. My blood pressure is impressively low, my resting heart rate rivals that of athletes, and while I’m exaggerating a bit about my cat-like reflexes, I’m known for my agility. I strive to maintain a diet that consists of quality nutrition for at least 80% of the time to fuel my active lifestyle.
From a physiological and metabolic standpoint, I’m the epitome of health. But my thighs still resemble cottage cheese encased in skin. I carry extra weight in my rear, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that it likely won’t change.
There was a time when my lifestyle was far from healthy. After having my third child, I weighed nearly 300 pounds and was considered obese. I hardly exercised; my activity revolved around wrangling my kids. I felt awful—physically and emotionally—but the idea of making a change felt overwhelming, like scaling a mountain too steep to climb.
The wake-up call came when my son inadvertently left my phone recording while I scavenged the fridge, capturing a video of me with my belly spilling out of a snug tank top. It was a moment of clarity—I needed to make a change. Over the next two years, I managed to lose over 100 pounds and developed a passion for physical activity that I never expected.
That journey began seven years ago, and since then, I’ve committed to regular workouts and healthier eating habits. Despite my weight loss, I still don’t fit society’s mold of “thin.” During my fourth pregnancy, I was at the peak of my fitness career, teaching eight hours a week throughout my first trimester and six hours right up until the ninth month, yet I gained 50 pounds, not 15. My doctor reassured me that both the baby and I were in excellent health, stating, “Some people just naturally carry more weight than others.”
I am one of those people. I’ve accepted my body as it is, embracing my curves. Like everyone, I have days when I feel bloated and unflattering, yet overall, I feel confident in my attire (and my husband’s playful compliments about my “nice pants” only reinforce that). We must shift the perception that fitness equates to being thin; you can be fit and not meet the conventional standards of svelteness. I stand as living proof of this reality.
I take pride in my body for its capabilities. I am healthy and strong, albeit lacking the abs of Jillian Michaels or the toned arms of Michelle Obama. But who knows, perhaps they’re just hidden beneath a layer of extra fluff.
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Summary
In summary, maintaining a healthy lifestyle through regular exercise and nutritious eating doesn’t always lead to being thin. Acceptance of one’s body shape is crucial, as fitness can manifest in various forms, and self-love is essential in embracing one’s unique physique.