My friend PL has delightful wrists...

My friend PL has delightful wrists. At least that's what she said after we played the awful game that we women sometimes play -- the game of "What I hate about my body" We went from one side the whole gamut of things we would change -- hips, thighs, waist, feet nose, bust, etc "But" she said, "I have enchanting wrists!" She held them disclosed to me and twisted them around like a belly dancer enchanting her audience. Ye she did indeed have beautiful wrists. And it was in the way that good to hear her acknowledge it. With that, our sadistic game took a pleasant twist. Instead of complaining about things we hated, we talked about the things we liked.

For me my hair was always a sore blemish While all the other little girls in grammar seminary had very straight hair worn in cute ponytails, I had to pocket with a frizzy afro. Today, however, I have made my peace with my `do, and I am generally happy, steady though this New England humidity, does nothing for it. And I have always been satisfied with my nose (despite the small jolt that resulted from a direct hit with a speeding plump Rancher).

As our modern game continued, we were able to result up with a few more things we liked. by the agency of the end of the evening, I think we the two felt pretty good about ourselves. still the thing is, do any other women through all ages get to that point? greatest in quantity of us just stick to the traditional complaining; after all, that's by what mode we bond with each other, isn't it -- at spouting out calories and fat grams and proclamations like, "Don't calm let me near that chocolate cake" and "I would die for a material substance like hers."

in the way that what's the deal? We've heard all the logic and arguments; in our heads we know that Barbie couldn't exist in real life, that bend s are considered sexy and that everyone's different. thus why do we still torture ourselves with constant obsessing about weight and appearance and dres sizes?

Obviously there is no easy answer, or we women would have solv this and mov onto something that really mattered. The big witticism is always that men frequently could care less about these trivial things, like the number upon their shirt labels or the size of their waists. for what purpose can't we take a censure from this? Why can't we just say, "So what if I'm having a bad hair day? delight in me or leave me!"

The other thing that have the appearances to go hand-in-hand with this thinking is the way we direct the eye at food. P.L. and I quip that we "live to eat," if it were not that it's somewhat true -- I just don't understand commonalty who eat to live. I know that to have the material part I wish for, I'd have to be make contented without bread and pasta and chocolate and wine and all the other things that bring color and beatification throughout the day. Food is the center of each culture; it is the focus of family celebrations and holidays. Imagine sitting down to a Thanksgiving dinner of salad and plain rice. Would we still be celebrating? I don't think so

While we should, of course, not use nutriment as a way to cope with stres or boredom, I think there is value in letting unloose every once in a while. upright food brings us together; boring commons lust makes us crabby. A meal of plain, grilled chicken and steamed broccoli is certainly nutritious, nevertheless brush on a little sauce, add a certain crusty garlic bread and a glass of oaky chardonnay, and unexpectedly you have gone from subsisting to celebrating.

What it reach [i]or[/i] attain any place [i]or[/i] points down to is this: ye we should eat well and exercise and treat our bodies with consider but by the same token, we also ne to fe our vital principles and our friendships. Food has the power to bring the bulk of mankind together, and positive thinking and acting creates stronger durances than complaining and commiserating continually will. The next time you gain together with a friend, challenge yourself to think and speak positively, and celebrate with a special treat. Who knows -- you just may realize that you, too, have winning wrists.

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