Today I ran into an acquaintance from days of yore at the grocery store. After greeting pleasantries, she asked me "So did you just have a baby?" To which I responded, unsure that I'd heard her correctly, "...Excuse me?" At which she replied, "It looks like you just had a baby."
I looked down at my somewhat thicker-than-in-highschool figure and laughed inwardly. I wasn't affronted or deflated by her comment, I found it both hilarious and pitiful. I know what I look like, and I know what I used to look like. How it was any of her business was hilarious. That she obviously based a lot of one's self worth on the number on the scale was pitiful, and I was sad for her.
Body image is an all too familiar subject in my life, and has taken on many incarnations. What I want to say anytime someone makes a judgement on my body is that they know absolutely nothing about it, through thick or thin.
Yes, I used to be tiny and hard and cut and awesome looking. But did you know that I dieted as early as 6th grade? In junior high I was weight obsessed. I knew from TLC class that anorexia was a disease, and I wished that I could catch it. I didn't want to die from it-- I thought that if I had anorexia long enough to get really skinny, I could probably maintain the weight loss when I started eating again.
In high school, I thought that in my little group of friends, I was the fat one. I weighed 107 pounds. I would verbally cut down my "skinny" friends when we were around other people in order to make myself feel better about my own insecurities. It didn't work, by the way. I went on the lemonade diet for about 30 days. Nothing but that horrid lemon/maple syrup/cayenne pepper concoction for an entire month, to disastrous effect on my teeth and metabolism. I would spend most of my money on workout videos. I tried whatever fad diet was in at the time and lie awake at night agonizing over the brownie I'd been too weak and stupid to turn down.
After high school, I counted every calorie by day and stayed long hours in the gym by night, until the calories-burned-counter on whatever machine I was working told me I had incinerated every last one of them. I'd wake up every morning and complete a workout video, then go on a run, then reluctantly go to work, counting all the hours I was wasting not working out. In the evening, I'd try to sneak in a bike ride before rehearsal, then immediately after, hit the gym for at least an hour or two. I turned down social invitations if they would subject me to any delicious treat temptation, or if they would interfere with my gym time. I scrutinized everyone's bodies and either judged them for the things I found "unacceptable" or obsessed over the features I found far superior to my own. I longed for long slender arms, legs that had a space between them at the thighs when standing with feet together, that deep canyon down the spine, shoulders that showed muscle definition even when arms were at rest. And I had all of those things, but it was not good enough if it wasn't the way someone else had them. My bedroom wall was plastered with pictures of ballerinas to motivate me to obtain such levels of physical perfection.
I don't know why it hit me, nor how the paradigm shift was so immediate and permanent, but one day I decided I'd had enough of complaining about my body and enabling others to do the same in our interactions. I was done agonizing over the number on the scale, being hungry most of the time, feeling guilt pangs at every not-so-healthy food choice or missed workout. I considered all of the bodies of all of my friends and realized that they were ALL actually AWESOME! With that newfound insight, I think I saw my body, for the first time, for what it actually was when I looked in the mirror. I can't ever look like a ballerina! I am more T-rex shaped than willow! And it was fine! I had a strong body that was capable of doing everything I wanted it to. And that was good enough. I started feeling beautiful. I still spent a lot of time pursuing physical fitness, but never to the point where it would inhibit my social life or emotional wellness.
During my single adult years, I worked to be a strong runner. I attended the gym and formed a humble awe and appreciation of my body for the hard things it was able to accomplish. Yoga became like church to me, where I was spiritually filled with motivation, love of my body, and drive to complete other goals in other aspects of my life. Rather than being validated by the number on the scale, I was brimming with self assurance through workouts-- that if I could accomplish this run, or do this many pull-ups, there could be nothing outside of exercise I couldn't accomplish as well! My fitness allowed me to play for hours with my nieces and nephews, to join in a game of ultimate frisbee at a moments notice, to walk around all day at Disneyland, finish a hard labor project, or climb up a million stairs to the high temples in Thailand and not collapse in exhaustion-- or worse yet, be unable to participate in the first place. My healthy perspective allowed me to skip workouts in favor of quality time with loved ones, enjoy delicious food regardless of calorie count, and enjoy a night's sleep free from regret and shame.
My single life was mine alone and I was therefore at leisure to pursue fitness and activity in all of my free hours. Now I am married. And I'm not saying that when you're married you have to stop doing stuff. In my case, my priorities simply shifted. If I only have a couple hours to spare, I would rather spend them with my husband than at the gym. I am perfectly happy with this. I can still storm a workout and run a few miles, but I also enjoy lazy hours on a summers day just hanging out on the deck, or spend the evenings curled up on the couch with Rusty. We make memories over delicious home cooked meals. We have TV show marathons. We enjoy our lives. It certainly doesn't hurt that Rusty thinks I am the sexiest creature to ever walk the earth, no matter what I weigh.
SO! After that long tirade of my health journey, I bring it back to my initial encounter at the grocery store. I wanted to say, yes I have been skinnier. I may have looked more acceptable to you on the outside, but what was going on inside was sometimes at too high a cost. Did you know that? Of course you didn't. I also wanted step firmly on a soapbox and preach that every body should be valued, regardless of shape or size. As long as its not being abused, a body is a beautiful thing to behold.
Incidentally, right before the grocery store run-in, I read a blog entry by a famous actress about learning to love our bodies. She focused primarily on accepting a curvier body type into the mainstream. While I don't disagree, I think it is VERY important to not exclude any body type into what we deem acceptable. She also called out other actresses BY NAME and criticized them for spending too much time exercising or looking too perfect for every occasion. This I vehemently disagreed with. We as women need to break the statute that somehow allows us to berate and belittle one another.
I have a friend who posts beautiful modeling pictures quite frequently, which are just as frequently met with scathing and hurtful comments about how she is "disgustingly skinny" or should "eat a sandwich" or other such thin-derogatory judgements. She is often scoffed at for her workout habits, citing that she is already "skinny enough" whereas her reasons for going to the gym have nothing to do with weight loss, but everything to do with maintaining a strong and healthy body. This person is healthy and beautiful, and happens to have a killer metabolism that endows her with a naturally thin frame. Likewise, I have a friend who practices yoga daily, enjoys a raw food diet, and often runs 10Ks and half marathons. She is considered overweight, though she has perfect blood pressure and cholesterol, among other health-controls, and is likely one of the healthiest and fittest people I know. And then there are plenty of friends with every body type and fitness level in between who are also living happy, fulfilled lives regardless of their gym prowess or eating habits. They are also beautiful and should be celebrated!
I am not perfect in my pursuit for body acceptance. I complain of having "fat days" and lament that none of my jeans fit comfortably anymore. Sometimes (and sometimes ALL the time) I eat nachos instead of going for a run. I am a yo-yo when it comes to weight and probably always will be. I despair after photo shoots or failed auditions because in an image driven business, I know my body is not quite up to industry standard, and that stands in the way of me feeling happy with a promo-shot, or being considered for a role. However, I commit to always keep a healthy perspective on how my body image is affecting my mental and physical health. I will always advocate and pursue a healthy lifestyle to avoid disease and other things that will hinder my ability to enjoy living to my fullest potential. I don't have kids yet, but when I do I will strive to instill in them values of health rather than aspects of appearance. And I will accept my body in all states because it is a direct reflection of what I've made it! If being super thin again will require hours and hours in the gym and away from my loved ones, I am perfectly happy to look like I "just had a baby".
