The "C" Word
Lets talk about cellulite. I have wanted to touch on this subject for a little while but didn’t know where to begin. I still don’t know where to begin. So I decided to start with my own issues with cellulite. I hate cellulite. There I said it, after all my preaching about loving your body the way it is and setting a good example to the up and coming generations, I hate my cellulite. I would call it hypocrisy but it’s more along the lines of honesty. I hate that I have it, I hate when it shows up in pictures of me and I hate how it glistens and glows with the right lighting and a lack of a tan. But this year, my goal is to embrace it, and if I end up falling in love with it, yay for me.
Here’s the thing with cellulite, it effects almost every woman. If you are a female and you don’t have it now, you are likely going to get it. And I don’t mean to sound like the downer, I just want to put it out there that most of us have it. So why do we hate it? No where ever have I heard someone say, “I love my cellulite, I love the way it dimples my thighs.” If almost every woman has it, why have we allowed it to become such an ugly piece of our bodies.
Cellulite is one of the most hated parts of a womans body. It seems to be hated by almost everyone. We see tabloids tempting us as we wait in line at the grocery store. Our children are fighting and we need something to distract us from the judgmental eyes. We grab the magazines that are offering a moment of relief. On the cover is a famous actor, probably 28, almost 6 feet tall and weighing in around 125 pounds. And this cover photo of her mid stride on the beach has a huge red circle on her thigh, pulling our eyes to one little dimple that may or may not be cellulite. Then you read the headline about how fat she is. When we get in the car, the advertisement on the radio is for some company chain of liposuction. Later, when we are avoiding the fighting in the other room from the minis that seems to bless most evenings, we use Facebook as an easy go to, the advertisement on the right of the screen is for cellulite cream. We are fucking bombarded almost daily with not only how others should feel about our cellulite but how we should feel about it. And there is no real solution, just reinforcement that if you have it, you better want to get rid of it.
So maybe that was a long rant, but what do we do? How do we fight back and reclaim our cellulite? I bought a pair of leggings that are adorable. I put them on and was checking out how I looked in the mirror. There they were, dimples popping out through my pants. The dimples were not only on my butt, but there were some behind my legs too. I realized why I love black pants so much, the dimples stay pretty hidden. Now this mirror moment was in a standing position, not a side view from the sitting position. Who knows whats going to pop through my pants when I change positions. And there I was, standing tall, only to start feeling deflated by these amazingly cute pants. I almost put the pants back in the box and returned them to the company. But I didn’t, what stopped me was my love for the pants (yes I can fall in love that fast). I also realized that with all my upbeat talk I have my fair share of skeletons in my closet. I kept the pants because I wanted to. I kept them because I am tired of having other people tell me to hate my cellulite. I kept them because I am not going to shame myself over something I can’t change. I have larger than normal legs. I have learned to look at them for their strength and function and their size is just part of the package. I have an abnormal amount of moles on my back and they just keep multiplying. I have concluded that I can’t change them and they are just part of who I am. They don’t stop me from wearing open back dresses and bathing suits with confidence.
As these things are individualized, I have started to realize that cellulite is harder to embrace. We are told from so many different sources and angles that we should hate it and we should want to get rid of it and we should, frankly, be disgusted by it. I have played along for most of my life. I am getting older and if I have it now, I really don’t want to waste my time returning clothes because it didn’t hide it. Fuck That. I am not sure how exactly I am going to do it but I want to be the example. I want to say that it is sexy to have cellulite. Yes, I said sexy. I first wrote that “it was alright to have cellulite,” but I am only catering to the fact that disgust is the alternative. I am going to rock my new pants. And when my pasty white legs are in shorts and the florescent lights gleam into the dimples on my legs I am not going to care.
Of all the things I cannot control, this is one that I am tired of wasting my time on. I am only just starting to figure this out. I am beginning down the road of loving myself for who I am and not for the dimples on my legs. Like most things, this is easier said than done. Wish me luck as I learn to make cellulite the new sexy.