The Sleeper Has Awoken

Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens.  The sleeper must awaken. 
~Frank Herbert (Dune)

I’ve mentioned before the things I’m starting to notice, now that my focus isn’t on hating my body and myself because of my body.  I have yet another thing to add to the list.

This is going to sound really whacked, but for the first time in my life (I’ll be 32 next month), I actually realized I was bloated (yes, it’s that time of the month).

No, that’s not a typo.  I really said for the first time in my life.

I used to say that I could never tell if I was bloated simply because I was so fat already.  But yesterday morning, I put on a pair of combats that usually fit me absolutely perfectly – and they were slightly tight.  Not so much that they were uncomfortable, but enough that I could tell.  I looked down at myself, and realized that my stomach was bigger than it had been when I went to bed the night before.

Now, to be honest, I panicked at first.  I thought to myself “oh god, I’m blowing up again, I must do some exercise.”  So I did – but nothing major.  I just got out my ab roller and did some crunches and leg lifts and whatnot.  By the afternoon, my stomach had gone back down to what it had been the day before.

It took a few hours before the light-bulb finally went on over my head.  Oh.  My.  God.  I was bloated.  Bloated!!!

Now the majority of the women who will read this are going to think I’ve been on some other planet, but that’s okay.  Maybe I have been.  But I’ve honestly never noticed bloating before.  Realistically, I figured I’d had to have been bloated at some time in my life; after all, I’m a woman.  Sheer mathematics would prove that it had to have happened at some time.  But I’d never noticed it.  Not once.

In my forays into this whole Fat Acceptance thingamajiggie, I’ve read posts and/or comments by people saying that once they stopped trying to eat to lose weight and instead gave their bodies what they wanted, they started to be more aware of their bodies.  To be honest, I didn’t really know what that meant, but I figured that I would figure it out sooner or later. 

Now I know!

I know what they meant, because it’s happening to me now.  Granted, it’s happening in baby steps, but I think that’s a good thing.  If it happened all at once, I’d probably find it overwhelming and confusing and wouldn’t know what the hell was going on with me.  But because this is happening bit by bit, I’m able to stop, take a breath, and figure out what’s going on and move on from there.  I’m able to wrap my head around it instead of panicking.

Awareness of one’s own body.  Who the hell knew?  😉