For reasons I don’t know—probably because I’ve never tried to understand them—my weight has been like a yoyo for a long time; it goes up and down easily. And I’m like a child with his toy: I guide, but I also let my body live its life. Up, down, up… As long as it rolls. su’a rope, I usually have fun.
But a while ago I stepped on the scale and it read a good twenty pounds heavier than my usual weight at its peak. Ah well tabarouettethat’s also about the number of unopened books lying around on my bedside table. Could there be a link between these two observations? I think so. The weight of responsibilities doesn’t just take up space, it also swallows up time. And it’s true that I have less of it than usual.
Another good indicator was my pair of Old Navy jeans. Even though I haven’t shopped there in a while—trying to shop vintage or local designers whenever I can—the fact remains that all my jeans prefs were purchased at Old Navy. I had to wear them four days a week for years, whether I was fifteen pounds on top or on the bottom. Ostia that I was good in it.
So here I am today, perplexed, like a child discovering his yo-yo with a tangled string.
WHO did this to MY toy?!
I had the reflex to blame an external factor, because, although I lack time, I eat pretty much the same as before, I remain active, I take the same medication.
So why, right now, when I want to put on my Old Navy, do they stop sliding down my butt?
Is it like a merry-go-round that you have to stop at La Ronde, “just to check something”?
Voice on the intercom: Don’t worry, dear park users. Our in-house technician needs a few minutes. Your favorite ride will be back up and running shortly.
Our body, this toy of yesteryear
The body is the toy that has been with us all for the longest time. The one we drag around everywhere like a yoyo. The one that makes us experience ups and downs.
What are your favorite games with this one?
I cherish it when I walk through the Botanical Gardens and bend down to smell the flowers.
When I jump into the lake, and my little dog swim brings me as much happiness as the first time I managed to swim alone in the neighbors’ pool, on rue Boisfranc.
When I realize that, lying on my back, I can still hold my twelve-year-old daughter on my strong legs: she does the airplane like when she was little, we laugh, then I can’t hold on anymore, and I feel her flesh fall on mine. I’m alive.
When I make love.
Everyone hates each other
There is a very popular podcast that I love to listen to every week that you may also be familiar with, Everyone hates each otherhosted by comedians Sam Cyr and Marylène Gendron.
For those who have never listened to it, its concept is simple: each week, a public figure is invited to discuss their complexes without filter with the hosts who have the strength to welcome everything, without judgment, with a lot of humor (and exaggeration too).
I noticed as I listened that several of these guests, especially those of my age, said during the discussion that they had been affected by the words of their mother, who often complained about their weight during their childhood or adolescence.
Anyway, we talked about this podcast and complexes over dinner with friends.
— What, Maya?! Your mother never talked about diet, about portion sizes, about calories, about her bikini that she wanted to get into before summer?!
— No, I swear. In 41 years, I have never heard my mother talk about that.
— I don’t know if you know how rare it is. You’re lucky…
This skirt is made for playing
For the first time in my life, I, who have always been comfortable in my body, cried for a few minutes when I saw my new weight. It is also true that I felt a little heavier for a few weeks. And it is as if, although I have always been comfortable with my elastic weight, I had reached my own limit of what I like for myself by putting my jeans, even though they are the most malleable, back in the drawer.
Well, WHO did this to MY toy?
The computer that I have to spend too much time in front of to do the job I love? A premenopause that I am not yet aware of? Quarantine?
Of course, I’ll mention it to my family doctor the next time I see her.
Meanwhile, by chance, while walking to the grocery store yesterday, I spotted a long denim skirt that whispered my name from its display (I swear). So I went to try it on in the changing room and felt about as comfortable as in my Old Navy, to say the least.
It was made with slightly less rigid denim, it has no buttons, only elastic, and I can’t wait to sit with it among the flowers at the Botanical Garden.
Finally, should I ask my editor to change the photo that accompanies this section, so that it is more in line with my current image?
No. Because weight doesn’t change who I am.
Our favorite games are, I think, who we are.