Loving Yourself

I don't think I've met anyone who would readily admit that they love themselves. Everyone I know has something about themselves that they wish were different. I suppose we all do. But I discovered some time back that I really do love myself. At the time, I thought I could love myself except for how I look. I assumed there was something inherently wrong with being overweight. I should feel bad. Unhealthy. Ugly.

But deep down inside, I didn't. I felt healthy (except for my allergies and a once-a-month hormone imbalance). I couldn't run a marathon or hike to the top of a mountain (and have zero interest in doing those things), but I could do the things I love... play in the flower beds, lop limbs off trees and bushes, walk quickly in and out of the grocery store, wander cemeteries for hours. I like my smile, my eyes, my hair. I like being a little bit messy. I like that dogs love me and I love them. I like being able to create things and research things and learn things.

And honestly I like my body. I can't imagine being skinny. I like that I tower over all of the other ladies at work. I like that I feel substantial, like I'm always "present." I like plus-size clothes. I like wearing big colorful shirts and jeans with a little bit of stretch in them.

The problem was... I wasn't supposed to like these things. Society, my family, my friends, the media... everyone was telling me that I should want to be small. And for all my life, I believed them. I looked in the mirror and said, "I hate you."

Then a couple of things happened. The first was that I met a guy online and went out on a couple of dates with him. He was like a male version of me, and I liked that. All the things that I liked about him were the things that were exactly like me. I had a glimmer of realization... that if I was attracted to all these things about him, then that probably meant that I loved these things about myself! The glimmer lasted for only a little while. It ended when he sent me an e-mail explaining why he couldn't have a relationship with me. The gist of it was: all the things about him that were just like me were the things he hated about himself. Ouch.

I went back to thinking I was supposed to hate myself. But secretly, I didn't hate myself. Not at all.

The second thing that happened was a true revelation and a turning point. I was reading a blog post about a single guy who was upset because he went on a date with a girl he met online... and she was fatter than her pictures had led him to believe. He never went out with her again. He said it was because she'd lied about her appearance, but those who commented on his post called him out on it. Everyone asserted that it wasn't about the lying. It was because she was fat. (There's probably some truth to both.) I followed the comments and privately agreed or disagreed with various ones.

Ragen Chastain -  danceswithfat.wordpress.com 

But one of the posts caught my eye. It was written by a woman named Ragen, and her profile picture made me do a double-take. She was clearly overweight, and also clearly doing a very difficult move that resembled gymnastics or dancing or pilates... I wasn't sure which. I did what I do... stalked her. I found out that she was a competitive dancer and, get this... a fat activist. What the heck?! I'd never heard of such a thing. But I visited her blog and started reading. I can't remember the first blog post I read, but as I browsed her site, I read many articles that explained that being fat was okay. That fit and fat were not the opposite of each other. That all of those articles that say fat people cost more money, get more diseases, die younger, etc. were heavily spun by the media and the 60 billion dollar a year diet industry. That the actual results of this research shows that being overweight doesn't make you unhealthy. What?!!! Are you telling me that everything I ever thought about size, weight, and MYSELF were cleverly spun marketing ploys?! O.M.G.

It didn't take long... a day? a week?... for me to embrace this information and boldly declare to my mirror, "I LOVE YOU!" I had been waiting 38 years for someone to validate the way I feel about myself on the inside... regardless of what others think I should feel. Relief! Realization! More relief! [Why did I need validation? Well... I guess that's another story for another day... don't know if I know the answer.]

I spend a lot of time with myself. I'm single. I don't have someone to hug me daily and tell me I'm fabulous. I spend a lot of time researching my family and reading about all the wonderful things they did or said or wrote. Some would say I'm highly ego-centric. Maybe. But I really love me. I love who I am and where I came from. I love how my mind thinks. I love my life. And I'm perfectly comfortable in this skin of mine. Finally.

PS - There's still something I really kinda hate about myself... when I'm pissy or bitchy or complainy or lose my temper. I always feel terrible after I've spoken meanly to someone.