For years, I hated my body. I was too short, too stocky, and not nearly thin enough. I exercised like crazy. I counted calories. I measured and portioned out my food. I followed every dietary trend and fad that came down the pike. I lost weight. I gained weight. I lost weight again. And, no matter what size I was, I still wasn't happy. I could never be happy with where I currently stood because I was always trying to get someplace else. I never felt as if l was good enough. This went on for well over a quarter of a century. I spent about three quarters of my life in misery. I bathed in self-loathing on a regular basis.
Eventually, I just got tired of kicking the crap out of myself and decided I'd finally had enough abuse. I lay down my weapons. I stopped counting calories. I stopped restricting food groups. I stopped demonizing and started legalizing. I broke up with the scale. I got into a bikini, stood in front of the mirror and took a long, hard look at myself. I decided that this is who I am, for better or for worse. These are my arms, this is my belly, and these are my legs. This body was MINE. It belonged to ME. And I couldn't separate myself from it anymore.
I thought to myself: maybe I don't love my body yet, but I could at least stop hating it. I could at least do THAT.
I chose to celebrate my body for what it could do instead of focusing on how it looked. I wore clothes that were comfortable and I liked, without regard for what other people would think. I exercised for health and well being instead of how many calories I could burn. And, each day, I hated myself a little less. I felt a little better about who I was. I decided I could be beautiful and my own version of perfect right now, no matter how much I could pinch around my midsection or how many dimples may or may not be on my thighs.
This is my body. This is my home.
Almost every single day, I hear women, beautiful, compassionate, intelligent, and strong women, beat themselves up and say THE MOST horrific things about their bodies. And, I'll tell you this: it breaks my heart. I hear women say that they are "disgusting" and wish they could "cut this off" while grabbing at their belly. Imagine if the body parts that you are cursing could talk. What do you think they would say?? How do you think they would feel about you hating them so violently??? What if someone else said those things to you? How would it feel??
Twenty-two years ago, I got into health and fitness so I could get paid for working out and hope to earn my worthiness by building a physique that would be acceptable. Now, I just hope to share my heart and love with those beautiful, compassionate, intelligent, and smart women who need to know that they are worthy and perfect just as they are right this minute. That they are more than just "a body". They deserve to be cheerleaded and encouraged into health and wellness, not blamed and shamed. They deserve to have their own love and acceptance, more than anything else.
That's why I'm here. That's why I do what I do.
When you think of "Everything in Moderation", what comes to mind?