A Charger Cheerleader Made Me Do It

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How is it possible that a San Diego Charger cheerleader made me eat a whole pie? Well, okay, she did not MAKE me eat the pie. She did not force it down my throat or hold a pom pom to my head and threaten me with pancake makeup and lip liner to get me to eat it.

She INSPIRED me to eat the pie. And by inspired I mean assaulted my raging insecurities with her tight abs and taut tush. Buns that actually float in the air. No drop or sag at all. I am telling you her butt was suspended in mid air. I know this because she showed me, me and the other 50,000 people who were at the game on Sunday.

Shouldn’t this have encouraged me to exercise, tan, and take a pole dancing class? Shouldn’t I have made a vow to take better care of myself, knowing that an aerial arse may be out of my realm of accomplishments but I could certainly pull “it” up an inch or two. Shouldn’t I have noticed that my husband was actually watching the game and not the girls and been content knowing that he loves me and wants me just the way I am? Should have, but it didn’t.

Why? Because for some reason, women don’t feel good about themselves. They don’t appreciate the way God made them and the way they are loved by the people who mean the most. Yes, we should take care of ourselves. God gave us this body and we are just borrowing it, really, and, I would hope, want to return it to him in a decent condition. We are getting a new body in heaven but it is my opinion that we should still honor his gift with care, right?

I will still never be a size zero. My body type would never be able to get there without serious illness so I am not going to try. I should though, stop lamenting what never will be and start accepting what is possible. A life filled with joy that will be more livable if I stop eating the whole pie. And a life more lovable if I stopped feeling bad that I am not a size zero and start loving me for me and embracing the girls who are. It takes hard work to stay trim and we know that because we have tried and we have all given up, right girls?

Yes, I would like her to put her clothes on and yes, I would prefer she did not flaunt herself in front of 40,000 men and boys. But I have to assume that she has some screaming insecurities that keep her where she is, probably just like me, wanting to change something about herself. We just comfort ourselves with different iniquities.


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