Learning to Love Thunder Thighs
By the time I was in sixth grade, I fully understood that I had Thunder Thighs. In fact, I distinctly remember telling a boy I liked that I had thunder thighs (and I really hope that it somehow fit into the context of our conversation, because that is all I remember, and it haunts me.)
I am now 40 years old, so that puts me in the Sixth Grade in 1985-1986. Reagan was still in office. We were watching The Goonies and listening to Mr. Mister.
And I was an 11 year old girl, already concerned about the size of her thighs.
This trend, this thing that happens to girls, has not only not changed in almost 30 years, but has gotten worse. It starts younger. Boys have since joined the “What I Hate Most About My Body” game. Thanks to social media and smartphones, today’s kids never get a break. It is with them 24/7.
Of my two boys, one resembles me, while the other looks nothing like me. Ever since he was a baby, I have joked, “The only thing Beastie Boy got from me are his thighs!” Because even as babies, my two boys had distinct body composition. While they each went through pudgy and skinny stages as they grew, my second born has thicker thighs than his big brother, every day of the week.
It Is How He Is Made.
So if that is how my kid is made, and he got his Thunder Thighs from me, does it not stand to reason that This Is How I Am Made?
I am a 40 year old woman, who is just now understanding that This is How God Made Me. Thunder Thighs and all.
There were a few months, in 2013, when I had Inner Thigh Clearance, for the first time since I was probably eight years old. Some combination of precise diet, exercise, and supplement plan shred fat off my body that had never dared budge before. Of course, I lost my boobs and my butt, too, and my husband was understandably devastated. I was disappointed, too, but I felt okay about losing two of my favorite parts of my body, because I had lost the one part that I have hated since I was a little girl.
Thanks to a combination of easing off the perfect diet, injuring myself to the point of no exercise, and the Hormone Ambush of 2014 (see Exhibit A – My Acne-Riddled Face), my 40 year old body has reclaimed these body parts.
While my husband is overjoyed, I might have had a complete freak-out a few weeks ago. With the Health and Fitness Marketing Machine in full “Get Bikini Ready” swing, I suddenly wanted to buy every pill, wrap, and cleanse on my Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram feed, just so that I could face the world in a swimsuit this summer without hanging my head in thick-thighed shame.
I am not sure what stopped the madness in my head. There are few logical voices in media, with everyone talking about weight – their weight, your weight, her weight, his weight. I just saw an ad on Instagram yesterday promising to banish Thunder Thighs in time for summer.
I give credit to my best friend in the whole world, my husband, who routinely tells me he loves my body exactly the way it is, as well as my renewed yoga practice, which reminds me at least once a week to honor my body and appreciate where it is today, right now.
And so I have resolved to become a Logical Voice in the media landscape, repenting for all I have said and done in the past that unintentionally added to the “you gotta get thinner!” fervor that plagues our world.
Just eat healthy, real food.
Exercise a little every day.
And Love Your Body. It is how God made you. Thunder Thighs, and all.