Some time ago I came across the quote above...
As a child I never heard one woman say to me, "I love my body," not my mother, my elder sister, my best friend, no one woman has ever said, "I am so proud of my body." So I make sure to say it to Mia, because a positive physical outlook has to start at an early age.
It took my breath away, made me feel dizzy... not because I'm at all surprised by what she said. It gave me that someone just punched me in the stomach feeling because, suddenly, I realized something.
The only thing... The ONLY thing that tells me my body is anything less than beautiful is my culture.
Is that a epiphany for anyone else?
Think about that for a minute...
Media, culture, popular standards... whatever you want to call it... has decided that I should weigh 20 pounds below where my body says it's comfortable, has told me that nothing should jiggle, has determined that my breasts should be large and my waist impossibly tiny, that love handles should be starved or lazered away... I could go on but you get the point.
Here's my realization... I bought it. Oh my god I bought it!!
I bought it for 33 years!!!! What. On. Earth?
For as long as I can remember virtually every spare thought has been spent on criticizing my body. Every time I look in the mirror my eyes focus in on every single perceived flaw. EVERY TIME. I'm downright brutal to myself.
Why in hell did I accept that this was ok?
I trust my husband, adore him, believe him... about everything else. He regularly has those movie moments where I catch him staring and he says "you're so hott." Instead of just enjoying the glow and basking in him I contradict him, almost every time.
WHY?!
Why do I trust this man in every conceivable way but I don't trust him when he speaks love and affection and longing over me?
Why when someone complements me do I feel that the normal societal reaction is to tell them that I have love handles? Really? Really? Why do we do this? Why do we feel like we have no right to love ourselves?
I'm declaring war on my negative self image, on my unwillingness to see my own beauty, on our culture's insistence that we aren't allowed to think we're pretty damn awesome.
About a week ago I started purposefully reversing my internal dialogue. Now when I stand in front of a mirror I pick out the things I like, and take in the things my husband likes. It sounds hokey but you know what? It works...
Until next time
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