Welcome to the new year, where everyone is suddenly very conscious of the 15 lbs they put on over the holidays. The number one resolution every year is fitness. Last year I made a resolution to learn how to love myself. Part of loving myself was becoming okay with my life and okay with my body. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I needed to figure it out, or I wouldn’t survive another year. Last year was monumental for me and I started this new year off with a big move and the decision to settle down.

So with Drill Weekend rapidly approaching, I barely felt any anxiety, as I was too busy loving a life I have learned to love. It was a great feeling to drive to Des Moines, IA from Kansas City, MO and not feel on the verge of a panic attack or making up stories in my head about what atrocities this weekend had in store. I realized that though I still don’t want to be drilling, I am okay to come here and I am still in control of my life.

I still woke up late this morning, which appears to be a calling card I’m struggling to quit providing. Despite that hurdle, the day was not starting off difficult. My command opted to treat me with conscientious assistance rather than punishment. I caught up with the days tasks and was moving along looking forward to the rest of the weekend. BUT WAIT… AND THEN…

I went to lunch with a shipmate who I regularly lunched with. This was a guy I felt comfortable around and didn’t usually have to worry about things with. After we returned from lunch we walked up a flight of stairs, he was a few steps behind. As I reached the landing he loudly proclaims “Hey Young, you need to check that ass. It’s getting way too large.”

I was frozen in my steps. Where once upon a time I would have laughed it off, because that’s what I’d been trained to do in the navy, but now I don’t believe that is right or fair to myself. I wanted to put a stop to it, stand up for myself… BUT the part of me that found his statement truthful took over.

Thoughts raced through my mind… Why would he say that? Can he tell how self conscious I feel in my too-tight uniform post the holiday feasts? Am I a less appealing friend because I’m less sexually desirable? This hurts, oh, god, my ass is so huge I can’t even hide it. If he sees it and feels he can say something, then what is everyone else thinking that they aren’t stupid enough to say? Why can’t I just be skinny? Why am I such a failure at meeting the standards of the navy and others when it comes to my weight? And the thoughts tumbled on and on.

So what was my response? He proclaimed this statement and strolled past me with a cocky air about him, chuckling slightly. I called him back, saying “why don’t you come say that to my face!” As he turned and came back towards me I failed at my resolve to not make this a joke and pretended to knee him in the jewels. I told him he was a fucking ass hole with a slight chuckle in my own voice, trying to not let out that his words had mortally wounded who I am, who I want to be.

This week I have been discussing how we project ourselves on to other people and vice versa. What may have seemed like a stupid joke to him was morally offensive to me. This is because I struggle with body issues, as so many women in this country do. That despite the fact I try to love my whole self for what it is, I still suffer from the social injustice of body fat standards and the beliefs we hold in regards to them. I sit here still, 10 hours later and want to run at him, scream, kick, and punch him to a hideous pulp.

That would make me no better than him, right? I can’t control that he broke rule number 1 (Don’t be a dick). I can however process why I felt that way, but responded differently. I am like a captive who has to relearn how to live a few life because Stockholm Syndrome set in years ago. I feel under their spell, I acclimated to the very unbalanced hyper masculine world of the military. They know no mercy, nor any balance most of the time.

Once upon I time, you acclimated or you fell out. I don’t know that it is much different now, even if they teach new things in boot camp, the navy is still full of old salty sailors who prefer a harsh word over a kind one and train this in to their juniors.

Prior to this weekend, I had subconsciously decided that if anyone approached me in a manner which I did not find humane or respectful I would tell them so. I did so well everywhere else today, but not at this. This shook my sense of self, and will unfortunately place a black mark on an otherwise valuable lesson… Or is this the valuable lesson?

Here’s the thing, life is full of struggles, they will appear in the moments that things feel they are finally going well. This is our reality. We can’t run from them, hang our head in shame, and honestly joining it is not often the right answer.

So what do we do? We are mindful and practice the things we have learned from wandering on our journey.

I AM NOT THE FOOLISH RUDE STATEMENT OF A SINGLE PERSON. I am also not the potential assumed thoughts of those who say nothing. I am not the size of my ass or the tightness of my clothes. I will not be defined this way, and hopefully next time I will be able to say this to the person who so rudely interrupts my peace with the world.

I am who I want to be, and daily I work on more clearly defining who that is. Today I know that I am not these things others place on me. I love my ass, yeah, we could work on some things, but Damn it… It’s me. If you don’t love me, then at least keep your mouth shut and check for a log in your own eye.

I accomplished so much today and it really was a great day, but often great days don’t come with remimders and lessons such as this. So I an thank for my struggle, and desire to move on from it.

If I need time to process it out of my system, so be it, but it won’t control me. You are not what your body looks like to other people… You are what it feels like to you. Make sure to love it, in all its imperfections, we all have room for growth (or shrinkage as some may think).

Signingoff, Des Moines, IA.