My relationship with my body has always been pretty rough. Like many women, I’ve always felt that the emphasis is on what my body looks like. And I’ve personally never felt that mine looked “right”. I assure you that this was the case when I was a size 18, a size 0, and everything in between — clearly, how I feel about my body has more to do with my head than what size or shape my body actually is.
So over the years, I’ve shifted my focus — away from what my body looks like to what it can do. I stopped trying to build a body that looked a certain way — which is a constantly moving target — and instead created a body that was just really fucking strong. And this, my friends, has been life-changing.
Every time I see my body in action, our relationship is healed that much more. For all the years I hated my body, for all the times I said nasty things about it, for all the attempts to beat it into submission, for all the ways I tore it apart — in these moments, I find redemption. My days of torturing, punishing, or abusing my body in order to turn it into some ridiculous “ideal” are over. My body isn’t something I need to overcome.
Now when I feel the old familiar tug of criticism for how my body looks, I think of everything it’s capable of. I think of what a miracle it is. I think of its incredible strength and its remarkable ability to endure. I think of its capacity to heal and evolve. I think of everything its been through and how, in spite of it all, it still impresses me every single day.
I am truly grateful for this body — for its intelligence, its resilience, and the freedom it gives me to live such a full and adventurous life. Everything I do is to celebrate it — not because I feel obligated to fit a certain mold but because I owe it to my body to keep it strong, fully functional, and healthy AF.