How many times in the last day, week, month or year did you weigh yourself and proceed to slam your body? How many times did you stand in front of your mirror, naked and exposed, despising your curves? How many times did thoughts echo in your brain: I’m too fat. I’m flabby. Oh my god, my thighs are horrendous. If my ass was smaller, I’d be able to fit into my jeans. Ugh, I hate my body. If I could only lose weight I’d be that much more happier. If only I could… If only… if…. if… if…. How much did you hate yourself?
How long have you been doing this? Since you were 20? 15? 10?
When did you make that conscious choice to LOVE your body no matter what? Or have you not done that yet?
Tonight, I talked my daughter through her tears of self-hatred and bitterness when she weighed herself. That silly and meaningless number on the scale reared its head and slashed her spirit. Her words were like poison darts. “I’m fat. I hate myself!”
I hugged her so hard. I wiped away her tears, only to have new ones eagerly replacing the ones I dried away. Her face was resolute in her disgust. She crumpled internally, her heart already recognizing that, for some, her only worth to others is how she looks and how much she weighs.
I stood, fists clenched against the world and told her “NO! You are NOT fat! You are STRONG and HEALTHY and LOVELY! You are more than those numbers. You are caring and sweet and funny and smart and lively and witty and because of all that, you are beautiful.”
How I wish my heart could imprint this into hers so that she never knows how to despise her body. I wish that she could wear her body proudly, loving it as deeply as I do. Admiring all that her body does – her beating heart, her intricate brain, her resilient skin. All these parts fall into place as perfection. If she is over or under weight is a moot point. It does not matter. I only wish for her to love her SELF so that she can march forward into her life, proudly declaring THIS IS ME AND WHO I AM. I AM NOT JUST THIS BODY YOU SEE AND THE FACE YOU COVET OR DESPISE. I WILL NOT CARE IF YOU DO NOT LOVE ME FOR I LOVE MY SELF.
If I could do one thing for the world, it would be this for all these women yet to be. I would gift them admiration of their bodies – the miraculous way they move and thrive, give life, nurture, create, strive, love, laugh, struggle, breathe, cultivate and cry and I would take away their hatred and loathing, their resoluteness of secondary worth, their despondent lack of hope and brilliance.
I would stomp away all their feelings of no self-worth. I would build their trust and inspire their own truth. I would whisper in their ear: You are worthy. You are WORTHY. I would whisper it until their souls listened.
Oh, and I would throw away every scale known to man. I think I’ll start with mine.