Because

"We don't get where we are in spite of where we have been, we get where we are because of where we have been."

- My friend, Kelly

Kelly and I had a conversation recently from which hailed the above pearl of wisdom. We were talking about her recent carb consumption, which has been cosmic. She doesn't always understand, she explained, why she eats the way she does, but she does it anyway. Then she said that the four-cheese ravioli with cream sauce the other night at Olive Garden had been well worth the lot of baggage with which it'd come: the stress, guilt, and the bags under her eyes that always give her away whenever she is not being good to her body.

Then why fret? If it was worth all that, then why even mention it?

Why? Because, we realized, and not nearly for the first time, that no matter what we try to believe, no matter what amount of acumen and common sense we apply to the situation, the fact remains that there is always a little devil on our shoulder, lurking, smirking, stabbing the opposing angel in the ear. The devil, of course, is that voice that we heard somewhere in our past, the one that still whispers, sometimes screams, but never really goes away.

Most women do hear that voice from somewhere or other: magazines, billboards, moms, mean ex-boyfriends, catty girlfriends, TV ads, mannequins, dumb-ass weight charts, skinny jeans, halter tops... But, if we're all so well aware of it, why do we still let it in?

It is a question worth pondering, we decided, so we did:

• At once, we devalue ourselves and think that we are important enough that everyone who sees us notices all of our perceived shortcomings: "Look at her. Her thighs rub together, her upper arms remind me of my grandmother's, and her cheekbones should protrude more." Really, am I that noteworthy? And even if I were, does anyone who is not me, honestly care?
• If we are not good to ourselves, who will be? Kelly says that when she's not exercising or eating well, she gets bags under her eyes, a tell-tale sign that she's not caring for herself. Why isn't she? I can encourage her all I can, but what good will that do if deep down she doesn't consider herself worthy of self-care? Incidentally, Kelly does take good care of herself normally, but her confession is typical of women who have had a bad carb day. We beat ourselves up better than a mugger could.
• Our pasts, which often include uncomfortable stuff, can cause us to question ourselves no end, while causing a sense of wonderment as to how we've managed to turn out as well as we have. Still, we've driven and successful, and, despite the fact that our self-confidence is always taking a beating, we've somehow found the confidence to have accomplished much more than we will ever give ourselves credit for.

It was a good talk.