Recently I watched a movie called “To The Bone,” the movie was about an eating disorder.
While I wish more light were put on eating disorders just doesn’t come in one size, one race, I had to understand that this was just an hour-long movie.
While I watched the movie about body image issues, I wondered to myself, “Do I genuinely love and accept my body “?
If I had to be brutally honest with myself, that answer was “NO.”
NO, I do not find my body attractive, sexy, healthy, or beautiful.
I had to dig deeper, because knowing that I was aware of my thoughts I had to find a root to it or at least try.
I remember just one time saying to myself, “I love my stretch marks, I love my thickness, and I love that I dress my body modestly.”
All my life I remember suffering from body issues. It started when I was going through puberty, and my body became some freak show for boys. Then I became a showpiece for girls when they compared how big my breasts were, how much I was growing around the hips, and how I was either too much or too little. The girls hated me for the attention I got from the boys and the boy’s abused me for the way I looked.
My body just didn’t become a display for boys and girls my age to judge; family members also chimed in as well.
Then when it came to dating I noticed I was not the size two girl, I was the cuvy girl with the ASS. Somehow my brains got bypassed, I had no personality and I stood proudly in my curves.
Of course, that was until the comments about weight gain came in from family members.
In my culture, we are not greeted with “Hi, it’s so nice to see you”; it is more like “Oh my gosh girl, you put on real size.” (Trini dialect) This is code for “you are looking fat, looks like you gained a ton of weight.”
That was my younger years. Did things eventually change for me? Did I finally accept my body for all the remarkable things it has done and is still capable of doing ?.
NO, the answer is a hard NO.
Before I had my son I was 135lbs, I was so happy about my body and I was a vibrant 24-year-old, I had just gotten married and I was trying to have it all.
After having my son, I remembered asking my Ex-Husband to stop by Target to get me PJ pants, as the ones I had were not fitting.
I was a small-med before I got pregnant.
Anyways he comes home, and I pull out the pants he has chosen all by himself “not too bad”, I told myself, then I put it on without taking the tag off to see if it fits.
I take off the pants right there in the kitchen and I look at the size tag and read the label
Emotions came over me, and I just started to cry. I know I startled my husband; I know I scared myself. But I cried so hard because I worked hard on losing weight before my pregnancy. I was looking at a tag, and all I could hear in my head was, “Oh fuck, you are FAT again.”
No one told me I would have become a mother and HATE my body.
No one told me just ONE child was going to leave me with stretch marks from my breast to my vag or the 10 lbs of loose skin I now carry with me everywhere.
DOES BODY ACCEPTANCE EVER HAPPEN ?.
I am a coach; I am a mother; I am a daughter;I am human.
They have workshops out there that can help with body image, they have books out there that can help, therapy can help and Mirror work.
Here’s my turth, even though I have lost 50lbs, still trying to loose more and still trying to love and accept my body. I DO NOT fully accept my body. I have folled my self into thinking I do.
I have put a lot of attention to my thoughts to know when I am bull-shitting myself, and if I tell you NOW “I love my body,” I would be telling you a lie.
So, whats the plan, since I have become more aware of my toxic thoughts and self chatter towrds my body ?.
- Limit time off of social media (I am always comparing)
- stay connected with my body through touch (longer showers)
- Write a clear statement of what I want to do with my health/weight loss and find a plan.
- Speak to my body more kindly. (overtime, it will become truth)
- DRINK PLENTY OF WATER