The War is Over

I say stuff like this all the time. I do it because it's funny. I do it because it's true. And I do it because it's easier to poke fun at myself and my weight than it is to allow anyone else to do it for me. And to my knowledge, no one ever has (not to my face, anyway).

Until the other day...

For the first time (at least that I can recall), a friend made a comment about my weight. It wasn't meant to be mean (this person is generally kind and loving), and I think it was meant to be funny... but it stung, a lot, and I said as much. The apology was immediate. But the comment stayed with me and I've thought of little else since.

And I hate that. I hate that the comment was made. I hate that the comment was true. I hate that it bothered me so much.

But I'm glad it's made me think about where I am and what I'm doing. 

There is so much on social media today about fat shaming. About body acceptance. As someone who has struggled with a weight issue, to some degree, for much of my adult life, I understand all of it.

I understand how people don't find fat attractive. I don't (and yes, I see the irony). I get how it's easy for fit people to place blame on an overweight person - to call her lazy or say he has no willpower. I get how overweight people feel invisible or unworthy or looked down upon. I have experienced the weird dichotomy of feeling perfectly average-sized and, at the very same time, wondering if I can fit into the space between two tables in a restaurant. I have avoided photographs and social situations and dating and even vacations because I hate the way I look and don't want to be judged or embarrassed. I've dissected the reasons for my weight gains and the ways to resolve them, all while eating Nutella by the spoonful.

I know all the things a person needs to do to be fit and healthy. I do. I have studied nutrition like it was my job and I probably know more about it than most doctors. I know how to exercise - I know the best types of work-outs for fat-burning and muscle-building. I know everything I need to do to be healthy. I have, in fact, done it all (over and over and over). Except for one thing...

I have refused to love myself where I am. 

I have been simply unable to accept this body, as it is.

I have hated it. I have made fun of it. I have mistreated it, been angry with it, been disgusted by it. But I have never loved it. I have never figured out how to love it, as it is.

And I think that's where my big problem lies. I think that's why the "problem" of my body is never fully resolved. It's why the war goes on and on and on and on.

This inability to love myself is part of a legacy burden, passed down from my mother. I don't blame her for it, as it was likely passed on to her. And though I have tried not to, it's likely I've passed it on to my own daughter (and that breaks my heart). For me, it's a 54-year-old habit that desperately needs to be broken in order for the war to end.

But how?

How do we learn to love ourselves? I've been asking myself that question for a long time and I've never come up with an answer. I can find a million reasons to despise... but few to love.

Recently, I came across a post by a woman who is on this quest for self-love. And in order to help her see her body in a different, less-harsh light, she started by making a list of all the good things her body has done and can do. And after my friend made the hurtful comment the other day, I decided that maybe I needed a list, to remind myself that my body is not all bad... that it's accomplished some pretty terrific things...

1. My body grew a human being. It nourished and protected her until she was ready to face the world. And then it birthed her in just over two hours from start to finish, like a warrior.

2. After that human was born, my body gave her comfort when she needed it; it provided a lap to cuddle on and arms to hold her. My body was a refuge. 

3. My body has managed hikes and water parks and ocean swims and camping trips in order to provide the human I birthed with wonderful experiences. It has slept under the stars and in storms. It has spent 18 hours at a time in a car to get to wondrous places. 

4. My body walked hundreds and hundreds of miles over the course of several years to raise money for cancer charities. It endured pain and discomfort and all kinds of weather to help others. 

5. My body stood on a pool deck or in the water for ten summers in order to teach, coach, and cheer on other people's children. My body hugged and high-fived and protected and helped. 

6. My body has taken a dog to the park nearly every day for more than a dozen years. It has held four-legged family members, comforting them as they took their last breaths, or when they needed reassurance that they were not alone. It has done the same for the fuzzy family members of friends. 

7. My body endured several courses of chemotherapy and medications that made it deathly ill. It endures, still, and goes on about the business of Life every day with cancer-filled lymph nodes and the threat of more treatment or additional diagnoses always looming. 

8. After a long course of chemo, my body sea-kayaked over two miles, around an island, just to prove it could. 

9. My body supported my mother when she couldn't physically support herself any longer.

10. My body has jumped into a freezing lake for the past few winters to raise money to help people with disabilities. 

11. My body has jumped into the car at a moment's notice to bring my human home when her body betrayed her and she needed support.

12. My body gets up every day to do things for others, no matter how tired it might be, or how much pain it might be in. 

My body has accomplished some pretty wonderful and wondrous things.

My body is worthy of love. It's worthy of my best efforts and attention. 

My body does not deserve my hatred, my disgust, or my ridicule. 

My body does not deserve my hatred, my disgust, or my ridicule.

It has taken me decades to understand this. But I'm not going to lament the wasted time. Instead, as of right this moment, I am going to end this war with my body.

As of right this moment, I officially end this war with my myself. 

And if you are at war with yourself, I invite you to do the same. 

XO,