The other day, my journal writing surprised me with a conversation between My Body and Me...as if they were two separate beings.
Here is an excerpt.
Me: Dear body, what can I do for you today?
My Body: Can you please love me just as I am?
Me: Of course, I do love you...but you are right. I keep trying to change you into what this world believes you should look like. I'm sorry.
My Body: It's okay. I'm pretty resilient in case you haven't noticed.
Me: Yes, I see that you are. Thank you for being strong in spite of all I continue to put you through. I've been so ignorant...deaf to your cries for help, but today I will do better. I love you. I don't want to lose you.
These embedded feelings must have been ripe for exposure because after all these years, from puberty through menopause, it's time to admit I have hated my body. I am so ashamed to say this out loud, but if I don't come to terms with my truth, this wound will continue to fester and prevent any healing that needs to occur.
You may wonder how these feelings took root. Growing up, I was a picky eater and a skinny child. Adults would poke fun because one could count my ribs as they were pronounced through my swimsuit. Then as the teen years approached and puberty set in, my body filled out and I became soft and round again like a chubby baby, except now it was no longer adorable...it was unacceptable. I was unacceptable.
I vividly remember my pediatrician's nurse remarking to my mother about me being overweight for a 12-year-old girl. This was the same woman who would also tell me that "boys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses," a quip that still haunts me over 50 years later!
So my self-esteem did not get off to a great start. I watched my mother struggle with her weight too. She and her neighborhood girlfriends counted calories and carbs over coffee talk. From them, I learned all about dieting and why it was important to be slim and attractive...to catch or keep a man. If it wasn't said out loud, it was implied. Advertising and TV talk shows made dieting fashionable and critical to one's self-worth. Was the fact that I was a few pounds overweight the reason I couldn't get a boyfriend? I grew up believing that.
I know I'm not the only woman over 60 who still has a skewed body image. It has occurred to me that maybe our minds are still waiting for our bodies to conform to those outmoded ideas. Perhaps no one ever taught us acceptance or loving what "is" regardless of what it looks like.
As my body continues to experience changes, I do realize that I am not alone in my suffering. One of the women writers I follow is Laurie Wagner. This week she posted a blog and an Instagram live video recalling a workshop she attended where she admitted to herself and everyone there that she hated her body. I cried listening to her brave confession. That video inspired me to "out" myself as well in the hopes that by risking my own vulnerability, others may also feel compelled to do the same.
I admire Laurie for posting that video this week. By risking vulnerability, I believe we not only free ourselves from the prison of shame and blame, but somehow we make room for more compassion and connection to others.
Regardless of what you weigh or how old you are, I am here to encourage you to be kind to your body. With Venus, the planet of love and beauty currently traveling through Libra, the sign of right relationship and peace, I hope you will extend an olive branch to your own body and call a truce. Your body will thank you for it.
Today, I choose to let the truth exist somewhere other than inside my body.
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