I don’t know stop. I don’t know quiet. I don’t know peace. How to just sit and be. And I don’t know these things because I’ve never been taught to rest without guilt, or stop without shame
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Our minds are marvels at protecting us from things we are better off not knowing, but our bodies never seem to forget. It is as if they know that pain must be held first if there is any hope of letting it go, and so they soak it up.
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We will never make a world where every BODY belongs if we are always centering my story, or the stories of people who look like me, live like me, and love like me. We have to do better than that. And we will.
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…”This story - our story - the human story… it needs a new ending. And when women write the story, the human story changes.”
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But here is what I know about running: It. Is. Exhausting. And where do you want to go when you’re tired?
Home. You want to go home.
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And it all makes me wonder…. What if 10% of us decided to channel 10% of our energy away from the obsession with our bodies and toward the thing that sets us on fire.
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“I wish there were more pictures of me and the kids doing the everyday stuff that we did when they were little: colouring, playing games, building Lego, swimming, hiking, biking, baking, playing soccer, doing crafts, watching movies.”
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I've begun treating my body as a friend, rather than seeing it as a separate enemy that I constantly have to try to shrink and battle.
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A guest contributor shares her powerful story about body image, self-esteem, and the influence of her mother and the media. She takes us through her story from her understanding of herself as Blubber, to her development as a natural athlete, her time spent in modeling, and finally through her journey of healing her relationship with her body
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I know what it feels like to wake up one Sunday and have nowhere to go. I know the sense of loss that follows the absence of the smells and sounds that have soothed you over and over. I know what it means to miss your family and to long for your home.
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Hey, Spandex. Yes, you… the one with the mic’d up headset and a mind full of inspirational quotes from your recent 2-day Les Mills training extravaganza. It’s time for us to talk. It’s about my body. Its boundaries. And your bias.
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We cannot run from who we are forever. Either we tire and surrender. Or we die trying.
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I don’t have to be at your Christmas to know that the woman in your life needs you to see her. All of her. Exactly as she is. And then lift her a little and watch everything about the world around you get a little lighter.
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I am starting to suspect that pain - like beauty - can be exquisite because both are part of the whole human experience. However, I have very little proof because I’ve spent so much time trying to feel happy.
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There are babies who daily face the ridicule because of their big bellies, stuck smack dab in the middle of a culture that will never stop reminding them that fat is bad.
And that’s the piece I want to land on here. I want to land on the culture, or more accurately, on the context in which we find ourselves, in order to cultivate some compassion.
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I am tired of hustling for self-worth, adapting the story to suit the audience and providing a palatable version of the woman I’ve become. The whole story is the whole story, whether you find it appealing or not. And that applies both to my circles of safety and to every priest, youth minister, teacher, preacher, bigot, straight dude with an opinion about dykes, and member of my family who still thinks this is a phase. The story will not change.
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Every time our team made a decision about future content, I would think about her…I would consider if this was just another moment where the words we share would crack her open, but would offer little to help with the pieces that spilled out.
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I gave this everything I had to give. The best parts of me. The most vulnerable parts of me. I left all of it on that stage.And I am not afraid to be rejected for it. I am, however, afraid to find out that it wasn’t enough.
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You guys, I don’t expect any of us to be able to easily dismantle the systems that support the notion that women only fit when they shrink. But once we have a little light shed on something we didn’t know before, I expect that we find a way to do better for each other.And I don’t know what that looks like for you, but I have an idea.
Consider new compliments.
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Healing feels like being free, in a way that I never knew existed. It's feeling connected to my heart, my body and whispering "I chose to have faith that I will heal".
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