The Weight of the Thing

I feel like full disclosure is in order. I'm taking weight-loss supplements.

It seems odd to talk about trying to learn to love my body while I am trying to change it. I feel like it's because I'm trying to love my body that I'm trying to do better by it. I don't want to lose weight because I am trying to please someone else. I don't want to lose weight because I am trying to fit someone else's standards of what is correct or beautiful. I want to lose weight because I want to be able to run around with my kids without getting out of breath. I want to be able to hold my husband closer when we make love. I want to stave off medical conditions that are linked with obesity and run in my family.

I lost my grandfather to diabetes when I was 6. He was 49. My step-father (although not related to me) was taken by complications from diabetes at 51. My grandfather didn't get to see me grow up. My stepdad missed my littlest sister's high school graduation by only a few weeks. It's heartbreaking and I don't want my kids to have to go through that if I can help it. 

Weight is a tender issue for a lot of people. None of us ever seem to be at the "right" one. From the pictures you've seen of me so far, you can tell that I am overweight. Classified as obese, actually. Weight is one of the many hang-ups I've had about my body, but the truth of the matter is this:

I hated my body when I was thin too.

Is it possible to talk about accepting and loving your body while working to change it? I like to think so. My motivation now is not to change my body because I hate it, but because I am learning to love it and take care of it. I'm not starving myself. I'm not denying myself.

Exercise feels good. It's not a punishment. Body acceptance doesn't mean disregarding your health. It's about learning to love and care for yourself.

Care for yourself.

Think about someone you love very, very much. Your significant other, your children, your siblings, your friends... anyone you love. If they were sick, hurting, dying, and you had the power to step in and help, wouldn't you?

Now turn that inward.

Body acceptance is as much about mental health as physical health. Self-harm comes in many forms- over-eating, starving yourself, cutting yourself... the list goes on and on.

I'm not telling everyone (or anyone, for that matter) that you must diet or exercise or give up anything. The only thing you must do is love yourself. If loving yourself means taking better care of yourself, giving up harmful habits, or taking on new healthy ones, then so be it. Good for you.

Do what makes YOU happy.

A familiar feeling.

My biggest enemy to self-acceptance is me. 

There are countless people in my life who love me just as I am and that will never change. 

Last night, while lying in bed with my husband, fighting a cold and trying to sleep, the demons that haunt my quiet times came screaming back to life, having only been quiet for a few days.

You're not good enough.

You're useless.

You're a waste of space.

How could someone like you make anyone happy?

These horrible, damaging thoughts are difficult to fight back. When I'm tired and low, it seems impossible to argue. 

After a night of fitful sleep, things don't seem much better, but the whole day is ahead of me. The sun is shining and the world outside is beautiful. I just have to keep reminding myself that I am beautiful too.

Shame, shame.

Think about the words you use when having internal dialogue about your body. 

Think about the words you use when you describe other people.

Are you ashamed of who you are? Are you trying to project shame onto them?

Fat-shaming has been in the news a fair bit lately. Some of you may have heard of "Jacket-Gate", where actress Melissa McCarthy's body is supposedly obscured on the cover of Elle magazine because she is fat.  You may have heard of of the outrage over Maria Kang's "What's Your Excuse?" Facebook post.

Less publicized is the concept of skinny-shaming. In a society where thin is in, the concept of skinny-shaming seems laughable, but it happens. I have done it myself.

Ever seen this come across your Facebook page?

I've seen it. I've probably re-posted it. 

And that makes me a bully. 

I "liked" this because I'm fat and society makes me hate that about myself. I, in turn hate the society. I think about all my fat friends who struggle with weight and body image issues because I can relate to them. When I see things like this, I think "Woo-hoo!! Hooray fat girls!!"

I fail to think about thin people who are being shamed and bullied by comments like this.

And I want to apologize to you from the bottom of my heart. 

Trying to hurt another person because of the shape of their body isn't going to lift me up higher. It's not going to make me feel better about myself. 

It's all about LOVE.

We must learn to love ourselves, just as we are, right this very minute. We must allow other people to love themselves as they are- without judgement. 

If you can't love yourself right now, chances are you never will. If you can't push past the anger and bitterness that lets you tell yourself it is okay to hate people for their body type, I genuinely feel sorry for you.

I am beautiful.

I am just as beautiful at 175 lbs as I was at 96 lbs. I am perfect because I am imperfect. 

I don't deserve to feel shamed or bullied because of my weight, my height, my scars, my scales, or anything else about me. 

And neither does anyone else.

Beautiful.

Hey there, beautiful.

And you are beautiful.

Don't believe me? Ask Jes. See what Jade has to say.

We're perfect because we're not perfect.

We're perfect because we are unique. 

No one can tell my story like I can. My body tells the story of where I come from. 

From the bags under my eyes (which I get from my dad) to my button nose (from my mom), to the scars on my face (chicken pox in 4th grade) and the marks on my belly (two beautiful boys). I am poetry in motion.

And so are you.

I'm not naked today. I'm running a low grade fever and can't seem to get warm, so I'm all bundled up and cuddling my scraggly dog.

My hair is a mess and I'm not wearing any makeup.

And I'm beautiful. Just like this.

Saying that I'm beautiful isn't easy for me, and that's a shame. When my friends can't say they are beautiful; that's a shame too. What makes us feel this way? Why do we attack ourselves?

I know there will be days when things don't go this well for me.

I know that, at least for me, feeling beautiful is hard work. 

That's why here, today, right now- I'm going to say it. And I'm going to believe it.

That way, when I really need it, it will be here. 

And it will be here for you too.

So, listen to me- you beautiful, magnificent creature:

You are fucking beautiful.

Inspiration

Deciding to bare myself for the benefit of others was not a snap, overnight decision.

I've been building up to this. I was finally pushed over the edge by this article:

http://www.nerve.com/love-sex/the-real-nude-vs-the-posed-nude-nsfw

Reading this article led me to the blog BareToBush, which isn't for everyone, let me tell you (NSFW). I'm not sure what it was about that article that made me think "I'm going to post naked pictures of myself on the internet", but that was the final push.

I also read a lot from Jes, The Militant Baker. I think if I lived in Tuscon, we would totally be buds. She's super awesome.

There are a lot of really great people out there, advocating loving yourself as you are for who you are. The world needs people like that. There are so many people waiting to tear us down and break us apart. We need not cheer them on and we certainly don't need to be one of them.

And so it begins....

I've hated my body for a long time. I hated it when it was skinny, it hated it when it was fat. I hated it young, and I hate it now that it's getting older. The problem is, all this hate isn't doing me any good. Hating my body has made hate and anger creep in to other aspects of my life that I don't hate, and that makes me angry.

I wish I could pinpoint where this poor self-image came from, but I don't know. I do know that it has run unchecked for most of my life, and that has to stop.

Not being happy with myself makes my marriage difficult. It hurts my kids. It bothers my friends.

And that hurts me.

Lately, I have been trying to turn things around. I've been trying to learn to love my body. I want to improve it, yes, but I want to learn not to hate it anymore. I am trying to learn to see it as a gift, a work of art, and maybe even that cliched temple people are always going on about. I've been doing body image exercises to learn to become comfortable with myself. This blog is an extension of that.

Here, I will air my grievances. Here, I will talk about my struggles and insecurities.

Here, I will post pictures of myself and the body I am trying to learn to love.

This is not an easy picture to post. This is my belly in all its glory. My babies grew here and I bear the scars. Jackson like to lay his head on my tummy and tell me how soft it is. This hurts my feelings because I don't want to be soft and fat, but to my son, it's beautiful. 

My breasts also bear "tiger stripes". They are large and scarred, but my husband loves them. They nursed my children. They hurt my back. One of them bears a large scar from heart surgery I had when I was three. I've often talked about wanting to get them reduced or lifted, or having implants so they would be the same size.

I need to learn to appreciate the folds and rolls. The scars and dimples. They are as much a part of me as my sense of humor, my boisterous laugh, the way I pout when I cry. This body tells a very unique story. 

This body is a gift.