An amazing woman I had the privilege of working with, wrote this few months ago. I am sharing here with her permission.
“I had this epiphany in the hospital as I lay on my bed attached to tubes and machines. It was an immense feeling of gratitude. My body didn’t betray me. My body handled the surgery well. actually handled the surgery really well. And I was grateful. And then I realized my “after”.
Thinking of ALL the conversations that we have had, and all the things I have written this year, I realized that I only have a problem with my body because other people have said I should!
I think I haven’t lost much weight because deep down I know I don’t really have to. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to lose a stone or two, but, MY BODY ISSUES ARE NOT MINE. They belong to my family members, jealous friends, haters, assholes, shallow fucks, and the media and clothing industries’ problems with my body.
I don’t actually hate it. I’m 44 and look 34. I have beautiful hair and skin. I don’t have to wear makeup. I can hike five miles. I had MAJOR surgery and I’m not in pain. WTF have I been doing to myself? I am done. That inner mean girl isn’t even allowed in the room anymore and if she sneaks in, I’m giving her side eye and going on with my life. The life I’m not living because I think I’m ugly and disgusting because that’s what assholes and the media have been telling me I am.
So my “after” is to love my body no matter my weight, to embrace the beautiful and amazing things it can do, to move it and feed it to support it in its amazingness, and to stop judging myself and others so harshly. Going forward, I embrace this amazing body I have. How silly to hate it because of arm fat or some bullshit. That’s so basic and petty considering all that it gives to me on the daily basis”.
Somebody please drop the mic.
Hugs, SOLO