I feel like I am being bombarded with messages about healthy
body image lately. I 100% agree that
healthy body image is critical to overall health and well-being. I also 100% agree that the media should be
burned at the stake for what they have done to contribute to how women and men
see the “ideal” human form. I know that
as a growing young woman I was severely impacted by too much attention focused
on my body, and the bodies of those around me.
I agree with all of that. Somehow though, I am starting to feel
attacked.
It is important to me to be in shape. Does this mean that I am somehow a bad person,
who is acting against the efforts of the people working to bring awareness to
body image issues? The idea that because I have a body close to
the “ideal” portrayed by magazines, that I am somehow not portraying “realness” and
cannot relate a “real” message is not fair.
The message I send to every client, friend, family member or
co-worker, is that it feels great to feel your best. I don’t give a shit what your best looks
like, but I do know that when you find it – YOU will know it. I believe that choices contribute to where
you end up. Millions and millions of
tiny little choices, that you make day-after-day, shape every aspect of your
life.
I share my real journey with those I cross paths with. I am not ashamed of what brought me here, and
I would not change any of it. I really like me, and all my crazy
flaws. I love chocolate. I’ll eat every last brownie in the pan if
someone does not intervene. I love to
work out because it contributes to my health and makes me strong. I had to get rid of many pairs of jeans
because my butt and my thighs got bigger and stronger. I have a huge ribcage. I have small boobs. I am a bitch when I am hungry. I get severe PMS, that is lessened when I am
exercising and eating well. I’ve had
multiple eating disorders throughout my life.
I work to overcome my own vanity daily.
I get scared when I feel the world pulling me toward my destiny – scared
I will mess it up. I’ve dealt with
severe acne as an adult and I still struggle with it daily.
I keep my hair long because it helps hide my face on days I am not
feeling my best. I have
no idea what it actually feels like to be overweight, but I do know exactly
what it feels like to hate my body, in little parts, or as a whole. I know exactly what it feels like to be stared at, made fun of, or judged because my outward appearance
is not “ideal” in one way or another. I
have two amazing boys. I was pregnant
and unmarried twice by two different men.
I am divorced. I’ve been fired. I am a nicer adult than I was a child. I fuck up all the time. I am wrong all the time. I know how to say I am sorry and I know how
to forgive. I evolve and learn every
day.
I am real, and I take much offense at the idea that the way I
look, the size I am, and the muscles I’ve worked for, make me less real than
anyone else.