We have been through so much together, you and me.
In my much younger days, you were perkier and less lumpy. A fitting end to my giraffe-like legs that were also free of lumps and bumps, veins and baggy parts.
In college, you were made for 501's and not much else. I could eat and eat, once cramming in 11 pizza burgers in the college cafeteria, and you wouldn't change a bit.
When babies came along, you and I spent hours sitting on the couch nursing, burping, and holding sleeping little angels. I appreciated your cushiness, while I may have cursed the lumps and bumps that were taking over.
Little ones love to be read to, which again necessitated hours of sitting. I was thankful that you weren't bony and uncomfortable, even as I realized that you were also no longer firm or perky. Soft, even.
As I approach 50 in a few short years, you and I aren't as close as we once were. When I spend long hours sitting on you, you balk just a bit and send pain shooting out towards my hips. When I attempt to get up from sitting on the floor for more that 5 minutes, you send waves of pain down my right bun, and laugh at me for almost falling down.
The one pair of 501's that I still own seem oddly baggy in the seat.
Dr. Oz says I need to do squats, eat more protein, and buy "butt pads" with special underwear to hold them in. He had a whole special on the other night geared towards the Over 40 Woman.
So all I ask of you, dear Gluteus Maximus, is that we enter this new phase of our lives together in some sort of harmony.
- I will agree to stop dressing you up in low-rise jeans if you will promise to stop drooping.
- I promise to skip the polyester pants if you will make an effort to remain somewhat shapely (at least in Spanx).
- I promise to appreciate the fact that there are muscles under all those lumps and bumps, and will do my best to find them once in a while, either on a hiking trail, a bike, or a long walk. But not running.
- I will try harder to watch what I eat if you will forgive the occasional Double-Double at In-N-Out.
Can we do it? Can we find peace with each other? Because the way I look at it, we are stuck with each other, you and me. And until medical science comes up with a proper way to transplant butts, that's just the way it will be.
Well, that and the fact that Jennifer Aniston probably won't be willing to give hers up.
Own Your Beauty is a groundbreaking, year-long movement bringing women together to change the conversation about what beauty means. Our mission: to encourage and remind grown women that it is never too late to learn to love one's self and influence the lives of those around us - our mothers, friends, children, neighbors. We can shift our minds and hearts and change the path we follow in the pursuit of authentic beauty.
This blogger is also featured on EndlessBeauty.com, a website focused on a fresh look at beauty, from skin to hair to makeup, plus celeb style, fashion, and fitness.
Sherri blogs at Old Tweener, where she writes about parenting and anything else that makes her laugh (or cry) while living in those years between changing diapers and wearing them.