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Body positive
Jun. 30th, 2011 11:11 am--I started writing this a week ago, I'm fine now.---
Ok, so, trying to write a body positive entry while being massively sick because of my periods might not be the best idea (seems like the new pill my gyno gave me makes periods rhyme with migrain-that-no-drugs-on-earth-can-kill. Dextropropoxyphen makes it bearable still but yesterday, at work, I wasn't too peachy).
Anyway. I think that I'm finally getting to the point of embracing my body. I'm short and it's extremely likely that I won't grow and even start to shrink. I have a tummy but, honestly, I think the slimmer I get the bigger it looks. My boobs may go down one size when I drop weight but my tummy never seems to budge. I have built a satisfying amount of muscle since I've taken up yoga, but muscle grows beneath the paunch, obviously. It's in the genes, we all have a tummy on my mother's side. And you know what, many women have a pot belly, it's not like it's some kind of monstrosity (says the girl who's taken up on wearing corsets. I know, I know).
There's also the boobage. I've always rocked my boobs. To the point of going almost half naked to Uni (well, how do you call a bra plus a sheer -very sheer!- top, or just a bra and a corset?). I might sadly have wanted to distract one's glance from the rest of me. And nothing works best that sporting your boobs as earrings. Lately I've become a bit ambivalent. Sometimes I wish I had smaller boobs. I guess it balances out the fact that I'm starting to like my tummy, huh? Or maybe I'm just not summing up my body to my boobs any more, which isn't so bad. I'm not sure that paragraph even makes sense but it's not very clear in my head either.
One thing that has oddly boosted my self-esteem is the fact that we now have a huge angle mirror in our room. I can see sides of me I had never seen before. I finally got acquainted with my back and my bum and they aren't all that bad. It's a weird ego trip I'm having when I look at myself stark naked in the mirror from every angles (probably quite porny too) but fuck, it's amazing to realize that I've lived 30 years without actually ever seeing the back of me properly. I have been thinking of taking nude self portraits to celebrate my self discovery but I've been too lazy for it to be more than a fugitive (but recurrent) thought.
What has helped the most, I think, is yoga. The 15 minutes I try to dedicate every day to my body. I am not as regular as I wish to be, and I go weeks without it altogether. I always feel so much better when I do yoga, healthier, stronger, more energetic, my poop is even better. No, seriously. I also find that I look better when I do it. Ok, that's probably all in the head, because stopping for a couple of weeks or even month doesn't make me lose the muscle mass I've built at all. But it is likely that yoga has transformed my body and given it a bit more definition and firmness. Let's get real, I do very gentle yoga, I am probably 75 years away from that infamous super toned yoga body. Still, there is a ridge between my shoulder and my bicep that wasn't there before!
I guess no matter how they look people always wish they'd be different. Especially women. It's how we're taught to be. Seriously, could women's magazine quit telling us how to be perfect? How to have the perfect hair. How to find the perfect jeans. How to cook the perfect meal. What the fuck? No one's perfect. Even supermodels, who are promoted as having the perfect body are heavily retouched (and, trust me, they get, more often than not, shouted at in the street for being too skinny. Eat a sandwich, bitch!). We're told constantly to focus on our flaws, or to enhance our assets (which is another way to say the same thing basically, that we're mostly flawed). We're turned into body parts, and we scrutinize everyone of them, instead of considering our body as a whole. Because there is a huge market for unsatisfied women. The diet industry is probably the most profitable and unchallenged bulk of crap. That and the skin industry. I mean, I probably spent 10 years inspecting the size of my pores and trying to tame my T-zone. WTF? Skin be oily. Skin is a living thing, that self regulates, and it will often be a bit shiny. Why is that shine apparently the most evil thing on earth (after “orange peel”, of course)?
Which brings me to the fact that I do not like my face. I can't explain it really. So, I'm going to work on that now. (Face yoga?)
Ok, so, trying to write a body positive entry while being massively sick because of my periods might not be the best idea (seems like the new pill my gyno gave me makes periods rhyme with migrain-that-no-drugs-on-earth-can-kill. Dextropropoxyphen makes it bearable still but yesterday, at work, I wasn't too peachy).
Anyway. I think that I'm finally getting to the point of embracing my body. I'm short and it's extremely likely that I won't grow and even start to shrink. I have a tummy but, honestly, I think the slimmer I get the bigger it looks. My boobs may go down one size when I drop weight but my tummy never seems to budge. I have built a satisfying amount of muscle since I've taken up yoga, but muscle grows beneath the paunch, obviously. It's in the genes, we all have a tummy on my mother's side. And you know what, many women have a pot belly, it's not like it's some kind of monstrosity (says the girl who's taken up on wearing corsets. I know, I know).
There's also the boobage. I've always rocked my boobs. To the point of going almost half naked to Uni (well, how do you call a bra plus a sheer -very sheer!- top, or just a bra and a corset?). I might sadly have wanted to distract one's glance from the rest of me. And nothing works best that sporting your boobs as earrings. Lately I've become a bit ambivalent. Sometimes I wish I had smaller boobs. I guess it balances out the fact that I'm starting to like my tummy, huh? Or maybe I'm just not summing up my body to my boobs any more, which isn't so bad. I'm not sure that paragraph even makes sense but it's not very clear in my head either.
One thing that has oddly boosted my self-esteem is the fact that we now have a huge angle mirror in our room. I can see sides of me I had never seen before. I finally got acquainted with my back and my bum and they aren't all that bad. It's a weird ego trip I'm having when I look at myself stark naked in the mirror from every angles (probably quite porny too) but fuck, it's amazing to realize that I've lived 30 years without actually ever seeing the back of me properly. I have been thinking of taking nude self portraits to celebrate my self discovery but I've been too lazy for it to be more than a fugitive (but recurrent) thought.
What has helped the most, I think, is yoga. The 15 minutes I try to dedicate every day to my body. I am not as regular as I wish to be, and I go weeks without it altogether. I always feel so much better when I do yoga, healthier, stronger, more energetic, my poop is even better. No, seriously. I also find that I look better when I do it. Ok, that's probably all in the head, because stopping for a couple of weeks or even month doesn't make me lose the muscle mass I've built at all. But it is likely that yoga has transformed my body and given it a bit more definition and firmness. Let's get real, I do very gentle yoga, I am probably 75 years away from that infamous super toned yoga body. Still, there is a ridge between my shoulder and my bicep that wasn't there before!
I guess no matter how they look people always wish they'd be different. Especially women. It's how we're taught to be. Seriously, could women's magazine quit telling us how to be perfect? How to have the perfect hair. How to find the perfect jeans. How to cook the perfect meal. What the fuck? No one's perfect. Even supermodels, who are promoted as having the perfect body are heavily retouched (and, trust me, they get, more often than not, shouted at in the street for being too skinny. Eat a sandwich, bitch!). We're told constantly to focus on our flaws, or to enhance our assets (which is another way to say the same thing basically, that we're mostly flawed). We're turned into body parts, and we scrutinize everyone of them, instead of considering our body as a whole. Because there is a huge market for unsatisfied women. The diet industry is probably the most profitable and unchallenged bulk of crap. That and the skin industry. I mean, I probably spent 10 years inspecting the size of my pores and trying to tame my T-zone. WTF? Skin be oily. Skin is a living thing, that self regulates, and it will often be a bit shiny. Why is that shine apparently the most evil thing on earth (after “orange peel”, of course)?
Which brings me to the fact that I do not like my face. I can't explain it really. So, I'm going to work on that now. (Face yoga?)
