Thigh Gaps

Oh, the elusive Thigh Gap.

The one we desperately search for, as we twist, bend, and contort our legs in the mirror, just to see the tiniest gap.

As proof that we now have some sort of “elite” status in society, over all the other “Fat” Women.

Proof that our endless hours on the Treadmill running, or restricting our food intake so severely to the point of blacking out, actually IS working!?!

That our Collar bones and Hip bones are proudly and sharply protruding, like a prized piece of abstract Art on display.

Awesome.

That our days and nights scouring our pantry’s, cupboards, and fridges or freezers, shoveling endless amounts of Foods we normally CAN’T and WON’T eat on a daily basis, (Cookies, Cake, Pasta, Pop-Tarts, Chips, Popcorn, and my PERSONAL favorite, Ice-cream!), down our scratchy raw throats.

Hoping, and praying that all the suffering and anguish WILL help us reach our distorted goal.

As we TRY to fill some sort of endless black hole, as quickly as possible.

Then making that despised but alluring walk to the Bathroom, just to perform our all TOO familiar ritual of sinking to our knees, flipping the lid, and hugging our Toilet’s like a long-lost Ass-hole of a Friend, we haven’t seen in awhile.

Ha!

For some of us, it could have been yesterday or earlier that day, but who’s keeping track?!

Repeatedly and crudely, we jam our fingers down our throats until we’re absolutely SURE we were able to throw up EVERY SINGLE DISCUSTING CALORIE we just foolishly and frantically consumed.

And maybe a little blood, too, but that’s nothing new.

Tears slipping down our faces, as we silently brush our teeth, hoping that anyone we may encounter, won’t smell the rancid sour stench of vomit on our breath.

The watery eyes.

Or how about the raw red mark’s on our knuckles, from hitting our teeth, as we expertly glide our fingers down our throats?

What a lovely and pleasant thought.

Proof that when we stand, we desire that gap, but even more SO, when we’re sitting down!

“There is nothing pretty OR desirable about a Woman’s Thighs that, gasp, TOUCH, Darling!”

Mother’s voice was curt.

And I saw the look of pure distaste on her face.

She was VERY matter-of-fact about it.

And there was absolutely nothing sweet about about it.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

Skimped on Breakfast.

Threw away my Lunch when I got to School.

Worked out extra hard at Practice.

Did extra Conditioning.

And then did even MORE when I was in the privacy of my own room as soon as I got home.

Skipped Dinner.

“Ohhhh, darn, I already ate…”

Later, while sitting on my bed, I take out the metal Tape Measure I’d stolen out of my Dad’s Tool Box.

I wrap it around my leg.

Up by my inner thigh.

The most despised part of my leg.

I squeeze it as tight as I possibly can, without “cheating” TOO much.

Tighter.

Tighter still.

Until I welcomed the stinging pain of the metal digging into the most delicate area of my inner Thigh.

Reminding me that once again, my legs were TOO big.

TOO big for WHAT exactly?

I spent endless wasted hours in my Teens and 20’s, measuring, squeezing, poking, pinching, and punching my upper legs.

Spewing the most hateful digs at my Thighs, vowing to make them as small as possible.

NOT an easy feat when you were an avid Runner and Gymnast.

AND someone in your Biological Family had some pretty decent muscular genetics….

That will actually later in life, win you a few Awards and Trophies for Natural Body-Building.

And AGAIN, at an in-state Power-Lifting Competition for being able to be the only Woman in my weight-class to be able to actually bend over, grab and pick up, a loaded bar with #300 lbs. by Dead-Lifting it.

No shame in THAT, I guess!?

But shame on ME, though, for NOT being able to FULLY appreciate that at the time.

Some HOW, some WAY, NO MATTER WHAT IT TOOK…..

I was going to miraculously whip up a new pair of sexy toothpick-legs, while I sat there punching and kneading, like I was preparing my Granny’s Award Winning Homemade Biscuits in the kitchen on a sweltering July day!?!

Mmmm….those sound good right about now, right?

Maybe with some Butter and Raspberry Jam?

Ooo, even BETTER, dripping with Honey!?

For REAL, tho’!

For WHAT?

Who REALLY cares that my inner thighs touch?

I mean, I had to quit Gymnastics as a Kid once because my thighs rubbed together SO much, that my Leotard caught on fire!

Just sayin’!

KIDDING.

Why have we as Women, not actually accepted that a Thigh Gap on MOST of us, is a sign of either small bone structure, poor eating habits, or lack of exercise?

Can we NOT glorify bad behaviour?

Thank you.

Oh sure, there ARE Women out there who somehow got #BLESSED with teeny-tiny thighs, who rightfully so, prance around in skin tight leggings, and teeny athletic shorts!

Proudly displaying their stringy but beautiful wishbone Thighs.

That somehow Magically, DO.NOT. touch!?

Not at all.

Not even fucking close.

Ever.

Even WHEN they’ve shoved their mouths full of salty Potato Chips, have their Monthly female Visitor, AND should be retaining a shit TON of water.

Whiiiich would make you feel a LITTLE better about the whole disullisional situation.

BUUUT, it really doesn’t.

Nope.

Never.

Nada.

I am NOT bitter.

NOT.AT.ALL.

Ok, maybe a liiiittle.

Can you blame me?

It’s the most desired cure-all for a Woman’s self-esteem, didn’t you know that!?!

FML.

But for the vast majority of the rest of us?

Our inner thighs will probably ALWAYS gently “Kiss”….

Ooooo, how lovely and romantic!?

Ok, MINE will most likely be like a full-on facial hug, faces smushed together, slightly suffocating you a bit!?!

BUUUUUUT ya’ll get my drift.

LOLOLOL!

I’m ok with that, I guess.

I HAVE to be.

Because it’s the way MY body is made!

Besides, who ever SAID that thick, toned, muscular thighs were unattractive!?

Legs are legs, despite any delusionsal sought after Thigh Gap.

They help you to Walk.

Dance.

Run.

Ride a Bicycle.

Do the splits.

Jump.

Ski.

Squat.

Deadlift.

Ummmm, you pretty MUCH use them for EVERYTHING.

EVERY day.

But more importantly, your legs allow you to STAND.

On your own 2 feet.

Rooted strongly and firmly into the ground.

Like the Goddess Warrior pose I’ve learned in Yoga.

Even IF you and I don’t have a Thigh Gap.

I’ll take sturdiness.

And the ability to kick YOUR Ass in Leg Wrestling, for starters!

My legs have helped me do numerous, amazing, things!?

How about YOURS?

Let’s NOT take them for granted, shall we?