Vanity or Obese Dismorphia
I sat at breakfast across from two guys sporting muscle vests, perfect hair, perfect teeth, pah. To borrow an advertising slogan, if Heineken made arms, believe me they’d look like that.
I am thirty seven and should be comfortable in the skin that I am in. Yet I found myself feeling envious that I wasn’t as big or as defined as them. I won on the legs stakes.
The tally didn’t extend further than the aesthetics, but got me thinking. When am I going to be happy with how I look?
When you first meet people in polite company, one of the first questions covered is ‘what do you do for a living?‘
I went through my twenties defined by my job & to a much lesser extent my friends. Being a Police officer is more than a job. The identity you have to portray becomes “you”.
As you transition through life, you discover who you are; you learn strengths & your personal short-comings. On reflection, I don’t think that I found my stride until I was in my 30′s.
Surely one of the hardest things in life is finding an individual identity & finding happiness, not loving what you see in the mirror everyday?