Body Shots

Honest to goodness, I have no idea how many times I've made self depreciating comments about my body.

Even as a child I knew that I was not your average skinny girl.

My mother never made comments, and the few well meaning comments from one of my grandfather never held water- as he was always heavy since I can remember.
But I was no older than seven years old when I noticed that I had a belly. It was right before my parents were going to take my brother and I to have our photos taken. My mom bought me this super cute peachy parrot top and jungle shorts. It was a really great outfit. But I clear as day remember looking down at my belly as it was rounded out a bit over my shorts. I didn't realize it then, but that was a catalytic moment in my life, it was the first time that I was aware of how my belly looked in what I was wearing. No child should ever be made to feel self conscious, and about their body no less. But there I was in that moment...analyzing my cute tummy, and sucking it in. I looked in the mirror and sucked my tummy in to see what I would look like if it were flat. And in that moment my life long Achilles heel was born. Fuck.

Nothing ruins a childhood like being chubby, and having low self esteem. Thank the Lord above and all things good and holy that despite knowing I was chubby- I also knew I was abso-fucking-lutely awesome. My parents instilled in me many qualities. Thankfully a solid sense of self, sense of compassion, and sense of humor were some of them. Not only was I able to skate through childhood and adolescence with minimal to no (well, nothing memorable) bullying...I was often befriended the bullied weirdos and helped integrate them into some social groups. Not the cool kids though. Ugh- I loathed the idea of being cool or popular. That meant that you blended in. And I knew even then that is a fate worse than death to a creative soul.
But back to my being fat.

I'd make comments about myself jokingly before anyone else could so that it'd diffuse any attempts at getting me in my weak under-belly (pun intended). My defense mechanism was (and is) humor and light-heartedness.

Flash forward to now. I sit nearing my 33rd trip around the sun and after a baby, some mega weight losses and gains in that period of time- typing this blog entry in the glow of a borrowed MAC computer looking down at my still rounded belly.

To some extent we've made peace. This belly hides a pretty strong core. This belly carried life. This belly carried me through life.
And even at my skinniest I had it. My soft, round and warm fleshy belly.
No man has ever denied me because of it, well, no man that I'd have would. And if anyone were to eat me after a plane crash I'm sure I'd be tasty because we all know that fat equals flavor.

I have to work hard to lose weight, and I have to work harder to lose the noise in my head that sounds like criticism coming from myself. No more shots at my belly, or the other parts of my body.

This phase in my life isn't about me enough for me to beat myself up. I have a family to care for, a child that I feed from the body I grew him in (yeah, that's right I'm a goddamn life giving goddess bitches!). So I will make sure to nourish this body. And I will make sure to keep this body strong, and able. I will make sure to love this body because it is a curvy, swervey pretty sweet machine.

You don't have a soul, you are a soul. You have a body. And it's where your soul lives.

(Some semblance of that quote has been attributed to C.S. Lewis but it's been refuted. So I modified it to suit my needs)

The whole point of this is to send a message of self acceptance. We all have things about ourselves we don't love- but if it's something that we can't change, it's something we will have to come to terms with.


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