As I have kind of eluded to, I have been working on healing my relationship to my body and my relationship to food, healing my digestive system which is all messed up right now. Its hard work, but really important work.
That being said, while I have some days where I feel empowered, at peace with my body, able to love my body, I have some days where I feel just uncomfortable in my own skin no matter what I do. I try to repeat to myself “my size has nothing to do with my worth”, I try and look at myself in the mirror and smile, find things I like about myself. Listen to the voices I’m hearing telling me I’m not good enough, that I’m too fat, not pretty, and try and stand up to them, realize who they are and say “who says”. I do all this, and I still tug at my shirt, I still suck in my belly, I hide myself behind my arms, behind baggy clothes, trying on at least six outfits before I find one I don’t want to die when I see my reflection in them. (“You look too fat in that”) I have empowered moments/days where I wear shorts to yoga, or show my belly, standing in the front row and can look at myself and love what I see. I have days, like today, where I wear shorts to yoga and pull them down the whole class, battling with my clothes, moving them around until I find a position for them that might make me good enough. Days like today I feel like I am the Michelin man, and that everyone around me is thinking things like “why would she even leave the house” “shes ugly” “shes fat”. I feel not good enough, and I feel so much shame I want to disappear into a tiny spec no one notices. Don’t get me wrong, none of this negative hate talk ever goes to anyone but myself. With everyone else I have such a deep and unbreaking ablilty to empathize and have compassion. To the point where it is almost destructive because I let myself be treated poorly at times, by people that had a “good reason”, or who are close to me. I, somehow, have become the exception along the way. For myself, I have so many hateful, shaming things to say. I am trying to change this, bit by bit, and I have come a far way from having eating disorders in high school. Currently at my highest weight, when faceboook shows me photos from two years ago (lowest weight), or having to be weighed by a doctor for surgery, all those voices come back into my head. The same ones I had then, only with more amo. It takes a figurative army some days just to hush the voice into a whisper. I am trying to remember that I had just as much hate for my body when I was at my smallest, and that even if I were on the “greatest diet ever” (which thank god I’m not, I’m learning to listen better to my body, and follow its wisdom) my body might still be the same size. Because other factors effect the size your body thinks it needs to be. Like the large cyst on my ovary, just having gone through the hardest year of my life not long ago, digestion issues, allergies I didn’t know about, stress, lack of sleep. No fucking wonder.
Anyway, I thought I’d share this all with you. As I’m sitting here so much of my mind is analyzing how large my stomach is.
How fucking ludacris is it that sometimes I feel like because I look the way I do, or I am the size I am, I am not capable of being loved because “who could love me looking like this”.
That because I am not skinny that I deserve less, or am not good enough, or hate myself? Its stupid, it doesn’t make any sense at all. But the media, and the family and friend voices weasle themselves in there. I’m trying to listen to what my body wants, and that has helped, its helped me to love my body, and to feel like I’m taking care of myself.
So, for the love of all that is good, don’t make comments about people’s weights that make them feel bad. Don’t tell them “oh this kale is so good for you, it helps give you vitamins, lose weight and grow wings”, Stop. Just, stop. Mind your own business, let them be them and love themselves, without any of your criticism on their food choices or their body size. It doesn’t matter. None of that matters.
Love to you all