much has been said and written about the french woman. she is
apparently the most desirable, charming, sophisticated woman there is.
now to add insult to injury . . . about 7 years ago we found out . . .
‘french women don’t get fat.’
a best seller was even written with that title by mireille guiliano.
some of you may have read it. i did. lol!
well . . .
my husband bob, died just a few weeks after i turned 34 years old.
we had lived together since i was 18. when we married, i was 19 and
he was 29. he was movie-star handsome. i was head-over-heels.
i stayed that way for the entire 16 years that we were together.
there really are soul mates you know. i was just lucky to find mine.
all my married life and then for quite a long time afterword actually,
i always weighed about 105 pounds.
he called me every day at lunch. if he had a meeting with a client it
was before the meeting. every call started with “hi good-lookin’!”
and i was good lookin’!
i was little. i had dark hair and blue eyes with bat poop lashes.
he used to pick me up a lot. twirl me around. and now . . .
ahem. and now . . .
i exercise some each day to stay firm. i do yoga each day to stay
flexible. . . . and yet now . . .
i am this plump little partridge of a woman. with silver hair and no
make up. well, i do wear a bit of blush. i don’t want to look dead
after all! lol! but the bat poop product left long ago.
there are curves and soft cushions and he wouldn’t even recognize me
if he could walk through that door now. at least not for a minute or two.
i have spent more time on inner workouts than on outer ones in these
i am not driven by the media images and the billion dollar industries
that breed our discontent. i’m grateful enough just to be healthy.
and still here. well . . .
as healthy as i am anyway! i’m not asking for miracles here.
i like me. finally!
i’m not “cute” anymore. heck i’m not all that good-lookin’ at all.
but i’m a happy camper. i’m comfortable in my own skin.
it took a long time to get there. i’m a work in progress that will
never end. until the big ending.
and as for the french women who never get fat . . . well . . .
c’est la vie! more power to you, ladies.
i have learned to like you too.
p.s. . . .
and you know what? i bet if my bob did get to walk back through
that door . . . he’d probably just look right past the chubbiness and
the silver hair and the plain old face . . . and he’d say
“hi good lookin’!” he’d look right through to my heart.
and he’d pick me up again and twirl me around. yes.
he probably would.
only now . . . it would make me dizzy. LOL!!!