I have something rather dramatic to declare here. I don’t think of myself as a quitter, but I have decided to quit this resolution. I have been avoiding this post for weeks now, but I feel that the time is finally right. I just cannot go another week feeling guilty for something that isn’t even important. I’m ready to move on with my life!
When I began this Ab Quest, I thought that it would be rather straightforward. I would exercise regularly and maintain a healthy diet and I would develop fantastic abdominal musculature as a result of this. Unfortunately, that was not the case at all. I’ve looked through the pictures of me over the past forty weeks and I’ve come to discover that I don’t really look all that different no matter how hard I work out. In fact, the entire time I’ve looked rather good.
I don’t know why I couldn’t accept my body as it was and still is. I’m thin, have good skin, don’t have any freaky moles, and look decent without a shirt. I should have been more than happy, but I wasn’t. I am now, though. I’m not sure what finally clicked in my mind, but I realized that I was attractive the entire time. That’s an awfully vain thing to say, but this entire resolution has been based in vanity.
Doing this resolution over the past year has not been fun. Last year’s resolution, the one to watch a movie every day, was also rather awful, but it educated me in a variety of ways. This one, though, has done nothing for me. It’s given me complexes, actually. For forty weeks, I have looked at food as something frightening. I may not have expressed that, but I have been living in fear of the weekly photograph I take of myself. I have denied myself water for fear that it would show in the picture. I have starved myself for days in a row, subsisting on minute nibbles in the vain hope that this would translate to a more attractive photo. It never has. I don’t know why I carried on this way. I’m rather ashamed of myself.
Doing this has also been far more invasive than I ever thought it would be. I’m naturally quite open and free-spirited and I didn’t think I’d mind having my naked torso all over the Internet…but I discovered that it was very stressful. I have no issue with the pictures, even if some of them are awful, but it was terrible taking them every week and looking at what I thought were flaws, even though they were not really all that big of a deal.
And so, last night when I denied myself an espresso for fear of it making me look fat, I realized that I had to stop. I told myself no at first, but when I sat down to ponder that idea, I felt such a sense of necessity that I allowed myself to end the resolution. I can’t express how relieved I am to be free of it. I know that it was something done only for me and that it was my own doing that put me in the situation, but I had a tremendously difficult time coming to this moment.
I refuse to think of myself as a failure because I never got all eight abs. I still look hot. Abs are not natural, like I’ve discovered. They exist, but the kind you see in magazines and on movie screens are ridiculous inventions of the modern gym enthusiast. Abs are a struggle and a pain and a true source of depression.
Maybe I don’t have them now and maybe I never will, but I have realized that it’s awfully unimportant in the scheme of things. It’s not as if I have a career as a model or a porn star. What do I really need them for anyway? I don’t, so I quit.
I will still walk on my treadmill because I really do enjoy spending time on there singing along with Beyoncé, reading, watching movies, and just mindlessly zoning out. I’m not going to balloon just because I’m no longer doing my ab quest. I can finally just enjoy my life again. I look forward to that.
Here are some of my favorite images from the resolution:
I always looked good, turns out I was just wasting my time. Oh well! And I think we can all agree that Tyra was a fool when she didn’t cast me. I could have revolutionized the modern modeling industry with my natural looks. I’m not bitter. (I AM SO BITTER.)