I had to google quadricep for this
Here's a sign that you aren't regularly discussing your body: You have to google "leg muscle above knee" before you write a blog post about self-care, self-love and your body.
Part of my job is running the social media accounts for my employer. I enjoy it and it's great because I post at least 75% of what is posted which means I get to screen almost every picture of me before it goes up. Which means a lot of pictures of me do NOT go up. Another part of this job means people send me pictures from events I may not be at or may be unable to have my phone with me. A few weeks ago someone sent me a bunch of great photos. And one photo of me. I was in front of a crowd, speaking, and holding one of my kids.
And I immediately started shaming myself.
You look disgusting. You look pregnant. Your hair is so frizzy. Your face is so red. You're gross.
Then came the rationalizing...
Well your phone is in your pocket. That's why your butt looks huge. Those pants have a large tie on front, your shirt is covering it, that's why you look pregnant. Your face isn't THAT red. It's a bad angle. You were PMSing, so you're more bloated than normal. The picture is blurry, that's why your hair looks frizzier than normal. (Side note, the other day my oldest child told me "I'm not so sure about your hair. It's very...blurry." To which I replied, "Genetics are real girlfriend. Better invest in some mousse.")
Anyways, after all this work I've put into loving myself, taking care of myself, and being confident, I still immediately went to shame, and then to rationalizing at the sight of ONE picture. Some of my shameful thoughts may have had some truth to them, and some of my rationalizing thoughts probably did too...but none of that really matters. These are the things I could have focused on, but I didn't:
You were speaking in front of a crowd without having a panic attack before, during, or after.
You were complimented on the work you put into that.
You have a job that (some days), you can do with one of your children hosted on your hip.
You're wearing pants you're comfortable in.
You're wearing a shirt with horizontal stripes after decades of refusing to. (Another side note: Can we PLEASE stop telling young girls what the most flattering or unflattering things are for them to wear? If they try clothes on and feel good in it, or you think they look great in it, tell them that. But please stop telling them that horizontal stripes make them look larger, curvy girls shouldn't wear prints - HA, watch me, I love my leggings. Stop saying that black is slimming and pushing them towards the black prom dress. It's not ok.)
I've done all this work on loving myself, working out to feel good and be stronger, feeling great about who I am as a person, etc...but that hasn't carried over to my instincts yet. I don't instinctively go to the loving place when I look in the mirror, receive a compliment, or see a picture of myself. I have made leaps and bounds from where I was: I haven't gotten on the scale in over a year, and it's not solely because I don't want to know the number. It's because I can tell I am stronger and fitter, but not skinnier. I have seen my body change shape, fitness progression, but not a size difference. I know whatever the number is on that scale, it doesn't change the fact that I don't want to die after every barre or zumba class. It doesn't change the fact that I have a butt now, and I like it, even if I feel like I need a sports bra for it every time I get the crazy idea that I might try jogging (like once a year.) That number won't change the fact that my quadriceps (look at me! With all my fancy knowledge of muscles!) are more defined than they've ever been. It doesn't change the fact that I still stress binge eat, but far less than I used to. That I love my tattoos, that I love my graying, "blurry" curls, that I have freaking awesome skin. The scale doesn't change that, and neither did seeing that picture.
So how can I feel so ok, and still immediately go to that ugly, hate filled place? I'm going to need to invest in more hours of therapy to get to the real roots (yes, plural) of that, but I had an experience the other day that gave me some new things to consider.
I was in the gym locker room and a woman told me "I have always wanted curls like yours." I thanked her and she said "I used to try and perm my hair to get curls like that." Everyone always talks about how you want what you can't have, but I haven't wanted straight hair since junior high. I love my curly hair. It is kinda wild and loud and unique, like me. It's super easy to do every day, I never have to worry if it rains, I had to buy a brush for the first time two years ago when I realized I had to start brushing my daughter's hair. But. But, immediately I said "Oh yeah, I spent years trying to straighten it and fight it but finally I gave up, and realized I had to just embrace what I was given." That's partially true. In junior high my mom (tried to) straighten(ed) my hair every other day for me. But that was almost 20 (insert "I'm old" comment here) years ago. And it wasn't that I gave up, it was that I started loving my hair.
I was scared to tell her that. That I loved my hair. I realize how ridiculous this statement sounds on it's own, but think about it - most women I know don't accept a compliment straight away. We are trained not to. It might make the other person feel bad. It might come off as cocky, rather than confident. Don't even get me started on how it's supposedly sexy for a woman to be confident but as soon as she accepts a compliment from a man he acts like her head is too big for the room (Before some of my awesome male friends and family members get defensive here, not all men.) So instead we deflect, we compliment the other person, we minimize whatever it is we are being complimented on, and then we wonder why our daughter's self esteem is so low, how we don't know how to ask for raises, why we spend so much time analyzing whether or not we should buy that shirt with the horizontal stripes.
Ladies, we have got.to.stop.
I'm not sure what the answer is...but I do know that years ago, I never thought I'd be in a place where I could not get on the scale for a year, know without a doubt I was nowhere close to my goal weight, but still love my body most days. I never thought I'd be totally and completely ok with knowing I am some men's type, but not all. I never thought I'd be in a place where I felt safe and comfortable in holding other people to high standards with how they treat me. I was never self aware enough to realize I needed to hold myself and my inner thoughts to those standards too. So, I'm going at this with the same approach - baby steps and tracking less obvious progress. The next picture I see of me, I'm going to choose to pick three positive things about the picture right away. It doesn't have to be appearance based, after all, pictures should be about the memories being made in them.
I am also going to make a point to give out more compliments. I compliment people pretty regularly as it is, but I'm going to do it more. I'm going to tell them whatever nice thing it is I was thinking, as soon as I think it, without worrying about how they'll take it or if they'll wonder if I have ulterior motives. My only motives are I like making other people feel good, I'm pretty damn candid so it's easy for me to say whatever it is I'm thinking, and I know we all need more practice accepting compliments.
I'm also going to work on being my authentic self online and in real life some more. I know I've been very honest when others might not have been, but it is not always as authentic as it could be - I still screen pictures before they're posted, I still second guess posting things maybe I shouldn't (and vice versa), etc.
Here's my first shot. This isn't the best piece I've ever written. I will only read through it once before I plan to hit post, so there's likely typos. It doesn't flow as well as I'd like, and it's not as funny as I like to be in my writing. I am NOT searching for compliments here (after all, I'd just deflect them anyways! Ha) but rather trying to exercise some vulnerability, and trust that someone may need to read this, however eloquent (or not) I am this morning.
Part of my job is running the social media accounts for my employer. I enjoy it and it's great because I post at least 75% of what is posted which means I get to screen almost every picture of me before it goes up. Which means a lot of pictures of me do NOT go up. Another part of this job means people send me pictures from events I may not be at or may be unable to have my phone with me. A few weeks ago someone sent me a bunch of great photos. And one photo of me. I was in front of a crowd, speaking, and holding one of my kids.
And I immediately started shaming myself.
You look disgusting. You look pregnant. Your hair is so frizzy. Your face is so red. You're gross.
Then came the rationalizing...
Well your phone is in your pocket. That's why your butt looks huge. Those pants have a large tie on front, your shirt is covering it, that's why you look pregnant. Your face isn't THAT red. It's a bad angle. You were PMSing, so you're more bloated than normal. The picture is blurry, that's why your hair looks frizzier than normal. (Side note, the other day my oldest child told me "I'm not so sure about your hair. It's very...blurry." To which I replied, "Genetics are real girlfriend. Better invest in some mousse.")
Anyways, after all this work I've put into loving myself, taking care of myself, and being confident, I still immediately went to shame, and then to rationalizing at the sight of ONE picture. Some of my shameful thoughts may have had some truth to them, and some of my rationalizing thoughts probably did too...but none of that really matters. These are the things I could have focused on, but I didn't:
You were speaking in front of a crowd without having a panic attack before, during, or after.
You were complimented on the work you put into that.
You have a job that (some days), you can do with one of your children hosted on your hip.
You're wearing pants you're comfortable in.
You're wearing a shirt with horizontal stripes after decades of refusing to. (Another side note: Can we PLEASE stop telling young girls what the most flattering or unflattering things are for them to wear? If they try clothes on and feel good in it, or you think they look great in it, tell them that. But please stop telling them that horizontal stripes make them look larger, curvy girls shouldn't wear prints - HA, watch me, I love my leggings. Stop saying that black is slimming and pushing them towards the black prom dress. It's not ok.)
I've done all this work on loving myself, working out to feel good and be stronger, feeling great about who I am as a person, etc...but that hasn't carried over to my instincts yet. I don't instinctively go to the loving place when I look in the mirror, receive a compliment, or see a picture of myself. I have made leaps and bounds from where I was: I haven't gotten on the scale in over a year, and it's not solely because I don't want to know the number. It's because I can tell I am stronger and fitter, but not skinnier. I have seen my body change shape, fitness progression, but not a size difference. I know whatever the number is on that scale, it doesn't change the fact that I don't want to die after every barre or zumba class. It doesn't change the fact that I have a butt now, and I like it, even if I feel like I need a sports bra for it every time I get the crazy idea that I might try jogging (like once a year.) That number won't change the fact that my quadriceps (look at me! With all my fancy knowledge of muscles!) are more defined than they've ever been. It doesn't change the fact that I still stress binge eat, but far less than I used to. That I love my tattoos, that I love my graying, "blurry" curls, that I have freaking awesome skin. The scale doesn't change that, and neither did seeing that picture.
So how can I feel so ok, and still immediately go to that ugly, hate filled place? I'm going to need to invest in more hours of therapy to get to the real roots (yes, plural) of that, but I had an experience the other day that gave me some new things to consider.
I was in the gym locker room and a woman told me "I have always wanted curls like yours." I thanked her and she said "I used to try and perm my hair to get curls like that." Everyone always talks about how you want what you can't have, but I haven't wanted straight hair since junior high. I love my curly hair. It is kinda wild and loud and unique, like me. It's super easy to do every day, I never have to worry if it rains, I had to buy a brush for the first time two years ago when I realized I had to start brushing my daughter's hair. But. But, immediately I said "Oh yeah, I spent years trying to straighten it and fight it but finally I gave up, and realized I had to just embrace what I was given." That's partially true. In junior high my mom (tried to) straighten(ed) my hair every other day for me. But that was almost 20 (insert "I'm old" comment here) years ago. And it wasn't that I gave up, it was that I started loving my hair.
I was scared to tell her that. That I loved my hair. I realize how ridiculous this statement sounds on it's own, but think about it - most women I know don't accept a compliment straight away. We are trained not to. It might make the other person feel bad. It might come off as cocky, rather than confident. Don't even get me started on how it's supposedly sexy for a woman to be confident but as soon as she accepts a compliment from a man he acts like her head is too big for the room (Before some of my awesome male friends and family members get defensive here, not all men.) So instead we deflect, we compliment the other person, we minimize whatever it is we are being complimented on, and then we wonder why our daughter's self esteem is so low, how we don't know how to ask for raises, why we spend so much time analyzing whether or not we should buy that shirt with the horizontal stripes.
Ladies, we have got.to.stop.
I'm not sure what the answer is...but I do know that years ago, I never thought I'd be in a place where I could not get on the scale for a year, know without a doubt I was nowhere close to my goal weight, but still love my body most days. I never thought I'd be totally and completely ok with knowing I am some men's type, but not all. I never thought I'd be in a place where I felt safe and comfortable in holding other people to high standards with how they treat me. I was never self aware enough to realize I needed to hold myself and my inner thoughts to those standards too. So, I'm going at this with the same approach - baby steps and tracking less obvious progress. The next picture I see of me, I'm going to choose to pick three positive things about the picture right away. It doesn't have to be appearance based, after all, pictures should be about the memories being made in them.
I am also going to make a point to give out more compliments. I compliment people pretty regularly as it is, but I'm going to do it more. I'm going to tell them whatever nice thing it is I was thinking, as soon as I think it, without worrying about how they'll take it or if they'll wonder if I have ulterior motives. My only motives are I like making other people feel good, I'm pretty damn candid so it's easy for me to say whatever it is I'm thinking, and I know we all need more practice accepting compliments.
I'm also going to work on being my authentic self online and in real life some more. I know I've been very honest when others might not have been, but it is not always as authentic as it could be - I still screen pictures before they're posted, I still second guess posting things maybe I shouldn't (and vice versa), etc.
Here's my first shot. This isn't the best piece I've ever written. I will only read through it once before I plan to hit post, so there's likely typos. It doesn't flow as well as I'd like, and it's not as funny as I like to be in my writing. I am NOT searching for compliments here (after all, I'd just deflect them anyways! Ha) but rather trying to exercise some vulnerability, and trust that someone may need to read this, however eloquent (or not) I am this morning.
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