When I started defining it by what it wasn’t
instead of what it is.
When I came to despise my hips and thighs
and cover up – not for modesty – but to hide my flaws.
When I looked in the mirror and saw only
double chins, extra fat, and curves too much for even Marilyn Monroe.
Going to the gym became shameful.
I was too bulky, too clumsy, too sweaty, too bouncy. Too too.
I defined my body by what it could – or should – NOT do instead of all it could.
The biggest obstacle to enjoying living in my own skin was not magazine covers, mean words, or not fitting in at the gym.
It was me. My fears. My insecurities. The possibility of failure and maybe even success.
I’m learning that my body is amazing.
It deserves good fuel.
It deserves to ride a bike, hike, do Zumba, try a cartwheel, swim, or do whatever I want to try.
Even if I fall
or look foolish
or jiggle too much.
I’m not sure when I learned to hate my body,
but I know it’s not too late to learn to love it.
Hi,
This is so beautifully written. And that line: “When I started defining it by what it wasn’t instead of what it is”! So true!
I’ve been on a long journey of never feeling good enough, which has included bulimia and diets and cancer where they removed my breasts. Then i felt amazing to be alive and appreciative and loving of my ‘flawed and scarred’ body. Then, 3 yrs later, I’m slipping back into that judgment. Not wearing shorts because maybe my legs have some extra jiggle. I don’t want to restrict myself!! That’s no way to live. I hope since writing this article, you’ve found peace and acceptance and LOVE your body! I have been reading things like “thin woman’s brain” and “intuitive eating” and am slowly returning to that place of love. I wish us both and everyone reading this article the best and I send extra love to you all when you forget to love yourselves.