
Last week I published a variety of amazing posts for Body Image Warrior Week. Today, I want to share my post. Happy Friday, and I hope you enjoy the post!
I used to think that in order to love my body or really just tolerate it, I had to be thin. I had to have a flat stomach, small hips and sky-high cheekbones.And I had to earn this love, this tolerance. I had to earn it at the gym — punitively pounding the pavement of a treadmill — and at the dinner table — carefully, nervously watching what I ate.
I used to think that I didn’t deserve to feel good about my body or myself overall because my figure didn’t fit the above criteria. Instead, there was softness and curves and rounder cheeks. And so I wondered and worried, how could I love a body that supposedly didn’t deserve it? I wanted to, but I truly believed — with all of my being — that I wasn’t allowed to. I’m not sure where these prescriptions came from. It was probably a mix of society’s stringent physical standards and my own perspective, a lens colored for so long by a shaky sense of self.
But either way, I felt that I couldn’t enjoy my body until I’d lost weight. Until I did what I came to believe was the exclusive path to body love.
Recently I read a powerful guest post by Rebecca Soule on Anna Guest-Jelley’s beautiful blog Curvy Yoga. Soule wrote a letter to herself on Valentine’s Day. She made the following vow to herself:
“So today, on Valentine’s Day, a day to celebrate love, I celebrate my love for you: for better for worse, in health and happiness, in creaky joints and achy knees, laughter lines and all, this life, this moment, this earth, until my spirit departs from you.”
The part about the creaky joints and achy knees really gave me pause because it refers to loving your body through it all. Through running for miles and through lying on the …