I've gotten some lovely and interesting response to my last blog post ("My Current State of Fatness"), and I want to say this in response. I have no illusions about my weight - that it would be healthier to be at a lower weight, or I'd have more options for clothes shopping, or more people might be attracted to my physically.
I'm just not sure why I should feel bad or ashamed or hate my body. I'm not sure why the energy of hatred, of this kind of subtle violence against my body, against myself, is somehow required or expected. Does my health improve, or do I have more clothing choices, or I'm suddenly more appealing because I hate my body? Because I'm willing to carry around a burden of shame as well? Because I internalize other people's judgement about weight, and their own fear or shame?
I'm pretty modest, but I have been regardless of my weight. And maybe if I were thinner and more toned, I'd be more comfortable being seen in a bathing suit. But my experience with most grown women is that they feel a level of self-judgement or discomfort at being almost unrobed, even for seasonal reasons. I'm not sure I have any goal that includes wearing revealing clothing, or that a change in my weight would make me feel differently.
My observations about myself aren't political. If they fit in any category, it is in the spiritual, of being a soul living in a pretty wonderful body that is carrying extra weight, but I'm just not about to negate all the rest of the good stuff over this particular thing. There are so many reasons one might not be fond of me, and maybe somewhere on that list is my weight. But it's probably not at the top. And there are lots of reasons one might like or love me, and weight is probably not at the top of that list either.
So I'm just trying to keep some useful perspective about my life, myself, my body. My body is amazing. It supports and sustains me in life every day (so far), allowing me to give expression to who I am, to connect with others, to laugh and write and learn...so much amazing stuff. It breathes and digests and circulates and repairs itself, all without any direction from me. My arms offer the warmest hugs, my legs are strong from all the walking I do, my brain is sharp, and my heart is bigger all the time
This seems like some pretty good stuff, and I feel so lucky that all this can happen - in this very body. It's not perfect, but this is the human condition, and we all share in that reality. I don't hate myself for all the other ways I'm not perfect; I think I'm just going to keep being ok with who I am, or at least as ok as I ever am, knowing how much work there is yet to do on the self.
Because I know that on the spiritual journey, there are already so many challenges, so many difficulties in navigating how to be the best person that I can, that I simply don't need to create any more on my own. And because I know that love is what brings out the best in each of us, not fear or shame or guilt. And I want the best for me...and for you too.
I'm just not sure why I should feel bad or ashamed or hate my body. I'm not sure why the energy of hatred, of this kind of subtle violence against my body, against myself, is somehow required or expected. Does my health improve, or do I have more clothing choices, or I'm suddenly more appealing because I hate my body? Because I'm willing to carry around a burden of shame as well? Because I internalize other people's judgement about weight, and their own fear or shame?
I'm pretty modest, but I have been regardless of my weight. And maybe if I were thinner and more toned, I'd be more comfortable being seen in a bathing suit. But my experience with most grown women is that they feel a level of self-judgement or discomfort at being almost unrobed, even for seasonal reasons. I'm not sure I have any goal that includes wearing revealing clothing, or that a change in my weight would make me feel differently.
My observations about myself aren't political. If they fit in any category, it is in the spiritual, of being a soul living in a pretty wonderful body that is carrying extra weight, but I'm just not about to negate all the rest of the good stuff over this particular thing. There are so many reasons one might not be fond of me, and maybe somewhere on that list is my weight. But it's probably not at the top. And there are lots of reasons one might like or love me, and weight is probably not at the top of that list either.
So I'm just trying to keep some useful perspective about my life, myself, my body. My body is amazing. It supports and sustains me in life every day (so far), allowing me to give expression to who I am, to connect with others, to laugh and write and learn...so much amazing stuff. It breathes and digests and circulates and repairs itself, all without any direction from me. My arms offer the warmest hugs, my legs are strong from all the walking I do, my brain is sharp, and my heart is bigger all the time
This seems like some pretty good stuff, and I feel so lucky that all this can happen - in this very body. It's not perfect, but this is the human condition, and we all share in that reality. I don't hate myself for all the other ways I'm not perfect; I think I'm just going to keep being ok with who I am, or at least as ok as I ever am, knowing how much work there is yet to do on the self.
Because I know that on the spiritual journey, there are already so many challenges, so many difficulties in navigating how to be the best person that I can, that I simply don't need to create any more on my own. And because I know that love is what brings out the best in each of us, not fear or shame or guilt. And I want the best for me...and for you too.
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