I really wish that I could put parts of my brain into a jar for a few months. I am perfectly aware that I am not being rational when it comes to how I see myself and yet when I see my body in the mirror I go for the kill.
This weekend I was a speaker at a conference here in Philly. I felt so honored to have been selected to speak about a topic that I am pretty passionate about (writing sponsored posts that don’t suck). I took ya’lls advice and got a few new tops in a larger size just so I could cut myself some slack.
But then I had to put the clothes on. And then I had to look at myself in the mirror. Well that’s hard. It really and truly is. I do not know how to look at myself any more. I am so used to just looking at the neck up and ignoring the chaos happening down below that I do not know how to do anything but glance down in disgust.
I have to stop that. I know this. I am just not there. I do not even know how to get there. I put on a dress and immediately put pants on underneath it. Comfort pants. Because that was how I could leave the room wearing the dress. But seeing myself in a dress was weird and hard and uncomfortable. My friends in the room were trying to be helpful asking me, “do you feel pretty!?” Fuck no. I do not even know what that is anymore.
I have done such a stupendous job of shaming and hating myself that I just don’t think I deserve to look nice. It is no wonder that I have been dressing so poorly for these last several months. I do not feel like I get to. A woman with my kind of body should be ashamed of herself. She should stay at home, cover herself up and hide away. She should don herself in black often and dial down her inner light. I do that very well.
While I felt really great within my roundtable speaking moment, oh how I love talking to other writers!, as soon as that moment was over I immediately felt like I needed to duck back into a corner and hide away.
Here is the kicker: I have lost ten pounds in twenty days. I want to own that, praise that, celebrate that, because it has been HARD. I have many more pounds to release, but I am doing the work. The physical work is yielding physical results. So WTF is the deal with all of this emotional murky going on. This body hating is like condensation on the pounds being lost. I don’t know if writing about it will help or if all of this is just one big wallow. I do know that like any journey I have been on in the last eight years I know I can not do it alone so being able to write it here helps. I am thankful for whatever ears are listening.
Image Credit: Edouard Vuillard – Woman in a Striped Dress