When was the exact moment that I started being unkind to my body?
At what point did I get into the pattern of loathing myself and taking for granted the beautiful thing that is my body? My body has done some pretty incredible things for me, whether I am 140 pounds or 115 pounds. I often wonder at what point most women begin to wish for bigger boobs, less cellulite on their thighs, and a tighter tummy.
I wasn't always like this, but it's been almost two decades since I have since I didn't scrutinize my appearance. I was the girl who didn't care too much about her appearance. My mom made most of my clothes and what she didn't make my grandma usually would find me treasures at the thrift shop. I never thought there was anything wrong with my appearance and the thought of being pretty never really crossed my mind. I chopped off my long hair at 6 because I hated having to sit still for my mom when she brushed it and even in dresses I had to wear shorts underneath because I had to keep up with all the boys.
The idea of having to fit in wasn't really a huge deal for me, until sixth grade. I was one of the first girls in my class to start my period, I was confused on why I was being punished. I was flat chested and cried to my mom that I never wanted to grow up. I didn't understand why all these changes had to start happening to me, I didn't ask for any of it. Another memory comes to mind when I think about those weird teenage years and struggling with the forever-changing female. Flash forward to my 16th Birthday, I went to put on my favorite pair of size 0 Gap capris and couldn't get them over my hips. How could this be happening? For the first time ever in my life, I started to believe I was fat. My clothes didn't fit me anymore (and let's face it circa 2000 jeans were not the most flattering, why did we ever think super low hipsters were a good idea?) and I struggled with accepting my body. I didn't know what to do, besides starting to silently control every little thing that I put in my body. I would go through periods where I would not eat, perhaps my depression and anxiety went hand in hand with this. Feeling like the only thing I could control was what I ate. At 30, I have dealt with the my shoulders getting broader because of the outdoor activities.
Over the past few months, I have seen a theme across social media. Women posting pictures that make them feel uncomfortable and dealing with negative self-talk. Opening up about their struggles to have the perfect body. How can we all not feel this way? Our mother's dealt with unrealistic images of supermodels on the cover of magazines, but our body comparisons have gotten more intimate. For most of us, we compare ourselves to others morning, noon, and night via social media.
I am guilty of comparing.
I am guilty of secretly body shaming others in my head.
And what is that? Why do we feel it is okay to body shame others for the way their body looks? Nothing makes us superior to one another because of our weight.
Sometimes, I do not even know how it happens. The feelings of feeling insignificant and not good enough. When we moved to Boise, I had packed on 12 pounds. I wasn't as active as I had been the past summer and didn't have routine. You would think that living at a sport climbing destination would have given me my best body. Wrong. I didn't struggle so much with how I look, but how I felt. I felt incompetent and felt like I had cheated myself. How could I do this? Did I not have goals anymore? As I get older and my free time is still devoted to the outdoors, my body is more of my tool for success in the mountains.
This year, I decided it isn't about my appearance, but about how I feel about myself. I have made changes to become the healthiest version of myself. With my endometriosis bloating, cramping, and pain have been something that I use as a crutch. I committed to a eating vegan for a solid 30 days and now, have cut meat completely out of my diet and almost all dairy. I truly believe in eating for your body type. My results haven't come fast, I have busted my ass at the gym and on the trail for months. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I finally had the courage to weigh myself. I have lost 10 pounds, it feels good, but I felt good before I weighed myself.
I don't know if it will ever be about the amount of pounds I lose or my weight anymore. I am doing things that I never thought I would enjoy doing. Trail running? Are you serious? I hated running, and now I look forward to my evening trail runs.
I feel strong.
So, I don't feel ashamed and I don't have trouble pressing the post button on my social media accounts. I am healthy, beautiful, and perfect just the way I am. There is no mold I need to fit into. There is no mold you need to fit, think of all the things your body does for you. Be thankful for your health, you ability to walk, enjoy the hobbies that make your heart beat, because one day, we will all be six feet under.
You are beautiful, you matter, and are important.
