A vulnerable note on letting shit go. 💘

Oct 08, 2022 12:01 pm

Before we get too far into this, I want to put a content warning on this particular newsletter. I'm going to talk about body image and disordered eating, and if that's not something you need to read right now, that's totally cool. You can always skip this newsletter whenever it doesn't resonate with you. You can also save it in your inbox or click the read past newsletter link at the bottom of my newsletters to go back to stuff when you feel you can. And for the skim readers...

CONTENT WARNING: NEGATIVE BODY IMAGE AND DISORDERED EATING

I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I hate myself. It's not something I put on the to do list. It's more of a habit. It's just what I do, like it's part of the routine. Wash face, brush teeth, hate body.

I can't remember a time when I didn't hate my body. Which is weird, right? Like, surely as a kid, I must've liked something about it.

But when I think back, I remember desperately wanting to have straight blonde hair and to not be the tallest kid and to be able to shop at the Limited Too like all the other cute rich girls who were almost a foot shorter than me and about 30 pounds lighter.

That was the entirety of elementary school for me. I don't know if I ever articulated that at the time, and just writing that all out was rough.

That was the foundation.

Then, I was a pre-teen and young teen in the 1990s, a time when the aesthetic we were all trying to achieve was literally called heroin chic. I vividly remember this cover of Seventeen Magazine where it was decided this young woman was somehow promoting an unhealthy lifestyle. And I remember getting tons of magazines that would detail the terrible ways models would stay thin in exposé-style stories. But on the next page, those models would be featured in an advertisement for a clothing item I would never be able to afford.

This fueled the fire.

My body hate has been on a low simmer my whole life. I've done diets and workout programs and worn fitness trackers and tried fads and cried in dressing rooms (usually Target at the start of swimsuit season) and lost weight and gained weight and I can't do it anymore.

I'm not saying I'm happy with how I look. Not by a long shot. But I'll be 37 this month, and despite all the hell I've put my body through in my life, I'm healthy.

I mean, mostly. This will probably make sense to some of you, but I feel I've read too many pop culture articles on fad diets and workout programs to know exactly what healthy is. Like, if I could throw my brain in the dishwasher and get all the junk science and eugenics sold to me as wellness out of the wrinkles, that would be great.

Until then, though, I'll settle for being body neutral. I don't have to actively hate it. And I'm very fortunate to be able to have regular meals that feature a protein, a vegetable, and a carb, so I'm going to enjoy that. I can walk five miles without breaking a sweat. I can almost squat my bodyweight. (Just once, on a good day, but still!) I have survived a global pandemic.

My body is doing all it needs to do.

I still catch glimpses of myself in the mirror as I get out of the shower, and the knee-jerk reaction is there. But it's quieter. Calmer. Like it knows it's time to retire. I hope it's packing up its desk and enjoying the quiet retirement party held in the break room.

Letting that shit go has felt like a magic spell. I don't think I realized how much actively hating my body every single day exhausted me. Consumed me. Made me put off stuff I love simply because I felt I didn't deserve it in the body I had.

It's like welcoming in a new life.

If you need me, I'll be getting rid of stuff in my closet that I've literally had for over a decade because I thought I'd fit into it someday even though I will never be 23 again. (Thanking my lucky stars for that one...)

And if you were looking for your permission slip to stop actively hating yourself, it's right here. It's magical. Seriously.