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I used to think of loving my body in the context of loving how I looked on the outside - to love the parts of me I can see. But what if loving my body can mean something different?
As I looked in the mirror one morning, I noticed how my eyes looked, and then I noticed how they were able to see whatever I looking at.
Paying attention to my breath, I realize that I don’t have to be paying attention for my body to breathe.
Laying in bed at night, I know it is safe for me to fall asleep because my heart will continue to beat without any conscious effort on my part.
I don’t have to digest my food; my digestive system handles that. My immune system goes into full on battle if a foreign body enters mine without me even knowing that foreign body is there. If I stub my toe, pain is right there in my toe reminding me to step lightly.
Laying in bed at night, I know it is safe for me to fall asleep because my heart will continue to beat without any conscious effort on my part.
I don’t have to digest my food; my digestive system handles that. My immune system goes into full on battle if a foreign body enters mine without me even knowing that foreign body is there. If I stub my toe, pain is right there in my toe reminding me to step lightly.
My body is fearfully and wonderfully made, and it knows what to do - all by itself!
What if loving my body means to equip and support it to do what it is designed to do by eating well, exercising, and getting enough sleep?
What if loving my body means asking my body how I feel in my own skin rather than letting a scale tell me how I should feel?
What if loving my body means taking it for a walk or to a dance class?
What if loving my body looks like wearing a different style of clothing or letting my hair grow out - or cutting it all off?
This has a completely different connotation - at least in my experience - than loving only what we can see on the outside. See, loving my body solely for its external appearance is all about comparison. These comparisons help us measure us up to a societal standard of what is normal, attractive.
But attractive to whom?
Loving my body means partnering with it, supporting it in all of its inner-workings as well as tending to the external appearance. It means letting my body be its own standard instead of trying to follow some arbitrary standard set by someone else.
You don't know me, internet!
Loving my body means treating my body as I would treat a friend.
So now when I catch my reflection in a mirror, I smile at myself like I would smile at a friend. I notice the things I can see - good and not so good - and I am grateful for all of me.
And as I experience gratitude for all that is unseen about my body, I am learning to love myself, from the inside out.
What if loving my body means asking my body how I feel in my own skin rather than letting a scale tell me how I should feel?
What if loving my body means taking it for a walk or to a dance class?
What if loving my body looks like wearing a different style of clothing or letting my hair grow out - or cutting it all off?
This has a completely different connotation - at least in my experience - than loving only what we can see on the outside. See, loving my body solely for its external appearance is all about comparison. These comparisons help us measure us up to a societal standard of what is normal, attractive.
But attractive to whom?
Loving my body means partnering with it, supporting it in all of its inner-workings as well as tending to the external appearance. It means letting my body be its own standard instead of trying to follow some arbitrary standard set by someone else.
You don't know me, internet!
Loving my body means treating my body as I would treat a friend.
So now when I catch my reflection in a mirror, I smile at myself like I would smile at a friend. I notice the things I can see - good and not so good - and I am grateful for all of me.
And as I experience gratitude for all that is unseen about my body, I am learning to love myself, from the inside out.
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