Professor Walsh
Feminist slayerette
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Do you want to love your body? Use it. Move it. Feel it. If you are a bit uncomfortable in your own skin, you are not alone. If you spend emotional energy pondering what other people think of your body, you are not alone. If you've spent time starving yourself or trying possibly harmful fad diets to reach the body you want, you are not alone. If you've realised that the diets doesn't make you permanently happy "“ well, you're not alone in that, either.
For the record: I'm not fit, and I'm certainly not particularly healthy. I'm mildly overweight by BMI standards, and I have motivational problems bordering on anxiety when it comes to exercising in public. I'm the archetypical book+tea+chocolate+sofa=bliss kind of person, so the mantra "just find some kind of exercise you like" doesn't work on me. I hear my husband, as annoyingly fit as an Initiative soldier (and yes, he does have the kind of arms that are good arms to have), tell me that it's merely a question of getting fit enough to enjoy being fit, but much as I try I have a hard time keeping an exercise regime long enough to get any enjoyment out of it.
But sometimes, sometimes I do get the urge to move. Not to exercise, per se, but to move. On Wednesday, I was Li'l Miss Cranky, an explosion just waiting to happen. I managed to pull myself together, though, and instead of taking it all out on my family I laced up my trainers when the kids were in bed and went out in the snow. I ran with the snow and wind in the face, fuelled by the frustration created by a misunderstanding at work that left me feeling like the fool and the music from my mp3-player. I ran with the tears of anger running down my face, feeling the snow sting my eyes then melt in my tears, and when I couldn't run any longer (I'm totally unfit, remember), I walked. The run had left me warm enough to take my mittens off even though it was "“ 10 Celsius or so. I plunged my bare arms into the snow, feeling the icy bite of the cold as the snow melted and ran off, waiting for as long as I could bear it before drying off. And I walked home through the darkness, feeling my body function on that basic level where you just move. Where there's no need to perform, no need to fear to look foolish, no need to wonder if you outfit looks good or if anyone thinks you look fat in that outfit. When I came home, I had a big grin plastered all over my face, and was a decidedly more pleasant partner than I was before I went in the snow.
That was such a firm reminder to me. I've haven't felt so good about myself in ages. I certainly never felt that good during my underweight, slightly anorexic teenage years, when I had a body far closer to the catwalk ideal than I'm sporting today. I've actually hardly ever been less happy over time than I was then. My body is no clothes hanger. My body is no-one's eye candy. My body is me, it's my instrument of walking, dancing, loving, hugging, lifting, kissing, playing, working "“ my instrument of living.
If you want to love your body, use it every way you can.
Oh, and of course: Wear sunscreen.
Mary Schmich
Do you want to love your body? Use it. Move it. Feel it. If you are a bit uncomfortable in your own skin, you are not alone. If you spend emotional energy pondering what other people think of your body, you are not alone. If you've spent time starving yourself or trying possibly harmful fad diets to reach the body you want, you are not alone. If you've realised that the diets doesn't make you permanently happy "“ well, you're not alone in that, either.
For the record: I'm not fit, and I'm certainly not particularly healthy. I'm mildly overweight by BMI standards, and I have motivational problems bordering on anxiety when it comes to exercising in public. I'm the archetypical book+tea+chocolate+sofa=bliss kind of person, so the mantra "just find some kind of exercise you like" doesn't work on me. I hear my husband, as annoyingly fit as an Initiative soldier (and yes, he does have the kind of arms that are good arms to have), tell me that it's merely a question of getting fit enough to enjoy being fit, but much as I try I have a hard time keeping an exercise regime long enough to get any enjoyment out of it.
But sometimes, sometimes I do get the urge to move. Not to exercise, per se, but to move. On Wednesday, I was Li'l Miss Cranky, an explosion just waiting to happen. I managed to pull myself together, though, and instead of taking it all out on my family I laced up my trainers when the kids were in bed and went out in the snow. I ran with the snow and wind in the face, fuelled by the frustration created by a misunderstanding at work that left me feeling like the fool and the music from my mp3-player. I ran with the tears of anger running down my face, feeling the snow sting my eyes then melt in my tears, and when I couldn't run any longer (I'm totally unfit, remember), I walked. The run had left me warm enough to take my mittens off even though it was "“ 10 Celsius or so. I plunged my bare arms into the snow, feeling the icy bite of the cold as the snow melted and ran off, waiting for as long as I could bear it before drying off. And I walked home through the darkness, feeling my body function on that basic level where you just move. Where there's no need to perform, no need to fear to look foolish, no need to wonder if you outfit looks good or if anyone thinks you look fat in that outfit. When I came home, I had a big grin plastered all over my face, and was a decidedly more pleasant partner than I was before I went in the snow.
That was such a firm reminder to me. I've haven't felt so good about myself in ages. I certainly never felt that good during my underweight, slightly anorexic teenage years, when I had a body far closer to the catwalk ideal than I'm sporting today. I've actually hardly ever been less happy over time than I was then. My body is no clothes hanger. My body is no-one's eye candy. My body is me, it's my instrument of walking, dancing, loving, hugging, lifting, kissing, playing, working "“ my instrument of living.
If you want to love your body, use it every way you can.
Oh, and of course: Wear sunscreen.
T
Tasha
Aw lovely, haha 'wear sunscreen'
Akitta21
Amazing post!!!
BuffyElevated
GREAT post. :D
Kean
[No message]
