One Way to love your *body (even when you don’t).
*quick definition: Body = the whole she-bang. Body and mind.
This is a tall order for a short blog for so many reasons.
Reason number 1. The world is working against you. If marketers can make you believe that you are somehow lacking you will fill that lacking part of you, with:
a. Cars, b. Lip Gloss,c. Protein Powders, d. a banana nut cake pop, e. fill in your obsession here.
Reason number 2. Talking about loving your body is kind of braggy and uncool. It’s far more okay to be a hater, even a humble/hater/bragger in this social media selfie-obsessed day and age.
We are set up to hate, bitch about, and generally disrespect THE thing that makes our lives doable. THE ONLY THING that allows us to do all the things we totally love.
This is crazy making.
The world tells you to have goals. Dream big. Go for the gold. But, the only way we can do this is to have a body that works really, really well. The killer is that the same venues that are telling you to go after your passions are also advocating self-hate. Hate your wrinkles, hate your spots, hate your age, flab, self.
That is one f’d up system. How can I love a future when I hate the thing (that gets me to that future)?
We have to learn to love the thing that allows us to love things.
But how? How can I embrace the mole on my face that grows hair, the fat at the top of my swimsuit bottoms, my knees? Oh my knees.
How can I quiet the voices of unkindness in my past that insisted that I was not beautiful in a world where flawless beauty matters?
Maybe you’re thinking that because you have chronic pain, UBS, or another difficulty that this whole blog is silly but I would say this.
Some kids are easier to love, but they still deserve love.
Here’s the answer: Context.
Not context like I’m going to make you compare your whole selves to someone’s less whole self. I’m not going to negate your sorrows by comparing them to greater sorrows. Naw, that’s not my thing.
I’m going to use an one example and you can use whatever example you like.
See that photo up there? That’s one of my dogs. God, I love that dog. I don’t just love that dog, I’m IN LOVE with that dog. If a man looked at me like that dog is looking at you right now, I’d get married again. No, I totally would. Totally.
If I say to my dog, “Peanut, let’s go for a walk.” Peanut responds like he just won the lottery. If I say, “Peanut, let’s go pick up poop in the back yard,” he is like, “Yeah, baby. Poop!” If I asked Peanut to fly, he would give it the old college try.
Peanut is game, and he knows no limits.
You know what else is like that?
Unfortunately your body has you for a friend and you hate her. You limit her all the time. You tell her she’s ugly and fat. You tell her/him he’s bad at math and running. You feed him a Mountain Dew and a Snickers bar and ask him to work all day. You’re kind of abusive dude (and when I say you, I mean me).
Now, think of the thing you love like I love my dog. Maybe you love your cat, parakeet, pot bellied pig, husband, child, in-utero child.
Think about how much you love that thing.
Would you ever make that thing do a beer bong? Would you ever feed your dog a bag of taco chips covered in Queso and expect it to not vomit on your rug and sleep for a day? Um, no you would not.
You are a nice person. A really nice person. You would never make your beautiful loved ones drink a bottle of wine and then be pissed at them for gaining weight. You’d never call them stupid fat or ugly even if they have a belly, wart, or flabbiness under their chin. Why? Because you love them.
You love them for who they are; flab and all.
Why do you do that to yourself, to the body that wants so much to help, even though it has a few challenges?
The way to love your body is to recognize what you love and visualize your body in that way. To care for it in the way you care for others.
Love thyself and then go do what you love