A group of us were hanging out last weekend when the littlest one, (so little I call her Bird,) in a turtleneck and a crew neck on a warm September day said, Oh I don’t like my arms and never show them. They are flabby.
In that moment we asked her to take off her two layers to her bra and we all looked at her arms.
They were little like twigs and fairly firm.
She is just shy of 50.
Each of us took a shot at her.
I lift weights and do yoga, in part, because when I wave goodbye I don’t want my arms to keep waving long after you have left the room.
After all, one day you may find your grandchildren lulling themselves to sleep while they play with your UADD (under arm dingle dangle) that is the curse of the aging woman.
Things are only heading south.
For now I say strip down and walk the earth with delight until people tell you to please cover up.
At minimum, I believe in the right to bare arms.
i bare em…but not sure I should!