Good Morning and Welcome to Coffee Chat!

We have had some really great chats so far this year, and I am so glad for those of you that continue to grab a cuppa, and share your thoughts with me each week!

I trust that the sun is shining in your neck of the woods, and that you are feeling amazing this morning.  Because - you ARE amazing.  No matter what

But if you are not feeling it today..... than that is okay too.

 Normally I do try and keep things light here on the blog.    This is my safe space, the one where I can be who .... or what, I am.    And a lot of that has to do with choice.

So, even though I am capable of quite the rant like you have never seen....I choose not to bring that into my happy blog home.

Most days.

Today, is not one of those days.

Time out for Mom

Tuesday, April 8th/14

 Fill in the Blank:  "I am Not My....."

I am normally a pretty confident person.
I have pretty thick skin, about a lot of stuff.
Honestly, I've had actual killers threaten me:  who do you think you are to get in my face?

I know what is important to me in this life.   More importantly, I know how to live my life in a manner that supports my convictions.    In a way that supports my beliefs.    And like a stubborn mule true Taurus, I can rarely be swayed.

I know what I know; in my knower.

Still, every know and then, something happens, that sticks in my craw.
Sets my teeth on edge.

It's normally because someone else exercised their right -- to open their damn mouth.
And then I feel I must also exercise my right to ask:

Anyone got an opinion about my life, raise your hand.
Awesome -- now put that hand over your mouth.

Today, my completed statement looks like this:

I am not my Pant Size.

Listen all you fitness gurus and those who enjoy spending hours of your time in the gym:   I get it.   Really I do.  You want to be healthy.  You want to be fit.  You want to be thin.   You want to be desirable.

All Awesome.   For YOU.

However, when you start to think that I also must spend my free time as such:  we gonna have ourselves a little problem.

Oh?!   Everyone has time for the gym do they?  Everyone?  Always?
Oh, and you're really gonna drive home the point that mothers most of all can find the time, aren't you.

Because - what's my excuse, right?

Here's a little news flash for this little movement - that make no mistake - it's designed to make you feel bad about yourself:

I don't have time - is code for:   Piss off.  It's none of your damn business how I spend my free time.   And if I want to sit on my couch naked and eat Pringles watching Game of Thrones reruns until my eyes go square, or they cut the power:  also my business.
Not that I would do that.  every day.

Now, I don't wanna pick solely on poor Miss I Got My Own 15 Minutes of Fame and now I Just Can't Shut the Hell Up Kang up there.  Because honestly:  obvious bitch is obvious
And what do I care about what some attention seeker on Facebook thinks anyway.
(for the record, if her kick in the ass method works for you -- than good for you.  now go forth and bully the rest of the lazy masses.)

No, this issue was much closer to home.   Someone close to me mistakenly under the impression that I was in desperate need of their unsolicited advice. 

Because they are just trying to prevent health problems!!   Heart Disease!  Diabetes!!  Cancer!!!

Well, well genius; let me know when you split the fawking atom okay?
I'll throw ya a little party.   All fat-gluten-sugar-processed-free food of course.
Hey - we'll do jumping jacks by the unsweetened vitamin booster hand pressed by virgins punch bowl for kicks!

Aside from the many (ass)umptions this person made about my life,  I think the most insulting was the insinuation that because I am not the picture of their ideal weight and size; my life must be spiraling out of control!!!
It must be the reason I cannot think clearly!   Or that I am so unsuccessful -- and how much money has my little blog made thus far anyway?
If I only got my fat ass to the gym -- I would be happy!  Rich even!

Of course, because no skinny rich person ever got cancer!!!  Cancer wouldn't dare touch the beautiful!  *snort*

If my body would just become an "object of desire" (direct quote), I would feel so much better about myself.   I would be a hero!!  (awesome!! do I get a cape too?)

What?  Just.  WTF?
Hey fuckie -- do I strike you as some dumbass who can't think clearly now?

In speaking with a friend of mine the other day, she also happened to mention something said to her as well: "my, you put some weight on this winter."
Oh hell no she didn't!

No mention of her recent success at work.  Nor the recent trip she did with her company because she was a top sales person.   Or, that she also stays home with her 3 kids and is an amazing mom.  And is active in the community and her church.   And quite frankly, is a knockout.

Nope.  All about her weight.
This is what this person reduced her to.

People, since when did this become the defining quality about a woman?   So much so that it has to be our first greeting to one another?    Isn't it actually the least interesting AND important thing about us?
(although yes, I will tell you look awesome...because that is nice and I am Canadian and we are always nice.  except today.  Today, you get the French Canadian.  C'est bien!)

When you cut me down to Size -- you devalue all the other hard work and good things I do with my life.  You reduce me to an external value.    A value that has very little to do with what kind of human I actually am.

Now, don't get me wrong: of course I am all for being healthy! 
For the record, I do exercise!   I would certainly encourage others likewise.  The keyword there is: Encourage!
What I am stressing is, WHAT/HOW/WHEN that looks for you -- is YOUR business. 
No one else has the right to bully or guilt you into becoming THEIR version of you.

The very last thing I want my life to be measured against - is the size of my ass.
Continue to do so.....and you leave me very little choice:

 I call this my "all the better so you can kiss my ass" pose.

It's amazing for releasing tension.

I am NOT....your problem to solve.

What are you not?

Next Week:   Tell me about a time someone made a completely wrong assumption about you.
And did you totally throat punch them?

About The Author
Leslie Botchar, aka "RoryBore", is a SAHM enjoying life one day - and one cup of coffee - at at time.
She has had several articles published in The Huffington Post, and hopes to one day marry her skills as Word Wrangler and Photo Ninja. Leslie spills it all on her blog Time Out For Mom, and invites you to join her for some Mom "Me" Time.
Connect with her: Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram.