Loving my body; Loving myself
My body, as long as I can remember, has been a problem. I remember being given diet pills when I was about 12 to get rid of this fat body. My mother loved it because I stayed up all night cleaning – too much energy. I learned to love amphetamines for study and other events where I needed a jolt of energy. I have frequently had people remark to me about my size. I remember my mother and a neighbor, because they cared, explain exactly what was wrong with my body. I finally figured out the problem was mostly that it was female and therefore sexual and often gained male attention – not a good thing.
When I first remember being hassled about my weight, I was about 145 lbs. and 5 '7". My weight has fluctuated vastly from 145 to a high of 240 lbs., and it appears to be highly reflective of who I perceive the world sees me to be. At the time I pretty much liked myself, in the seventh grade, and did not pay much attention but this changed. It is neither good nor bad but just was the way it was. I hope sharing my experience with this will help others realize how we treat children is the gift we give to them that keeps on giving — long past its end date, even when it has turned moldy and toxic.
I remember standing on the pediatrician’s scale and him saying, “Your daughter’s weight is good.” I was 145 lbs. He asked my mother to help me maintain this weight. Her response was toxic, as are so many parental responses related to body image and their daughters. She went on, during ensuing years, to explain to me in detail how unloveable I was to everyone and especially so because I was too fat to live. Since I believed, at that time, my body was who I was, if it was unloveable, then so was I. I have had complete strangers approach me and tell me how big they thought I was and how I needed to lose weight. Certainly that did little to support my self image, nor did it motivate me to lose weight. I ignored them and insulated myself against the world with food and bulk.
I was, even then, a very active person and was involved with kundalini yoga. I never lost weight with it, but I was incredibly flexible. It was rather startling to see this relatively large woman easily pushing up into a backbend or lying flat upon the floor with the upper body lying between spread legs on the floor. I believe the practice of yoga kept my self-esteem above water enough to keep me from annihilating myself. It is incredibly hard to survive in this world when you have repeatedly been told you are not worthy of existence and that no one could possibly love you, including your siblings – and if your parents died it was all your fault. May I suggest there are a myriad of ways to handle a child’s weight problem rather than by humiliation and guilt. These don’t work, even though the after effects of this made me a very good weight lifter and boxer for a few years.
I have met so many others who have had similar stories and had to come through a childhood composed of rejection and abuse. A childhood more filled with negative rather than positive memories. It was finally when I realized that the memories are just that: memories. The energy is just that: energy. It is what I make of it that makes the difference. If I wanted to be a bitter person, out to seek revenge on the world, then I could use these memories to fuel this energy. However, at some point, I decided I wanted to learn to love and care for myself and to use my experiences to assist and help children know that they, too, can and will survive.
I started working out when I lived in Qatar. Presli was the first of my excellent personal trainers who managed to motivate me enough to live and basically saved my life. I am not being dramatic, just factual. For many years, weight lifting and boxing provided an incredibly needed outlet for self-hatred and general rage. When I started with him, I could not do a sit up, let alone lift a barbell or a weight bar. When I left Qatar in 2003, I was a pretty good boxer and was pushing respectable weight. This continued until 2013 when I returned to the U.S. and basically stopped everything except the occasional burst of energy for kundalini yoga or some workout – been there, done that; nope, not interested.
So here I am at 79, back in the gym and looking forward to it. Why? Because I have learned to love myself for who I am. I have learned that love begins within me and radiates out to the world. I have often been told I have a strong life force and could live many years, so the question becomes how do I want to do this. I want to do this accepting full responsibility for who I am and maintaining a strong ability to care for myself. I realize this body is a Divine gift, a gift to cherish. It allows me to feel the wind in my face as I skydive. It allows me to smell as I run the damp earth through my fingers. And it allows me to feel as I hold my son and feel his hug. All of this is a precious gift and one I want to make use of to its fullest capacity. I want to again feel my body to its fullest as I push it to regain strength and resilience.
Oh and by the way, I will start back to work again as a School Psychologist. May I be granted the gift of patience and a quiet voice. You will be hearing about this as I go down this road. It allows me to write….