“be softer with you”

Summer walk in the rain!

This has been a really busy week with work and events with the kids. Usually I go to the gym or for a walk every day, but due to the packed schedule, I haven’t done so since Monday, opting instead for some stretching at home. By this morning, my legs we aching to move. Outside, it’s been alternating between a downpour and a steady rain all morning, but I didn’t have time to get to the gym between meetings, so I grabbed my husband’s baseball hat to keep the rain out of my eyes and set out on a walk.

* * * * *

As my arms glistened with raindrops, I felt the comfort of having listened to my body. When what I needed most was rest, I rested. When what I needed most was a walk, I walked.

* * * * *

Caring for our bodies is a struggle for many (most?) women. We exist in a society where our bodies are aberrations to be controlled, not lives to be loved. I’ve been fighting through this for a long, long time. Three years ago, having gained some weight after starting a new medication, I did something radical: I stopped weighing my self at home. I had been taking baby steps into radical body acceptance, and this was a giant leap. I had come to believe that if I could slip out from under the shame of weight, I would actually become healthier. I also believed that would probably end up helping me lose weight, as my body naturally settled into its organically set weight.

About two months after I had stopped weighing myself, I went to a doctor’s appointment. When I stepped on the scale, I saw that I had gained three pounds. That was not what I was expecting.

* * * * *

I still believe – now more than ever, in fact – that radical body acceptance is a path to a healthy self, including body, and my views on the correlation between weight and health have evolved. But that’s another post – the point of this one is that when I stepped off the doctor’s scale, I made a choice to keep accepting my self. And that led me to walking in the summer rain three years later.

* * * * *

This spring, I spent several weeks talking with my therapist about how I could feel more secure in relationships. How do we make our peace with the fact that no one will ever understand completely how it feels to live in our skin? It feels so lonely. Who can I “come home” to, resting in unconditional connection and attachment?

Me. Each of us is the only one who can provide that depth of acceptance to our selves. I remember looking out the window of my therapist’s office, and it crystalizing for me how closely linked this aching need for not-being-alone is to acceptance of my body. My body, a battleground of not being good enough. Some thing from which I had to dis-connect, in order to find (superficial) connection with others, to be treated better by them. If I could accept my body, I could accept anything about my self. My self could live at ease, knowing I will not betray her. I will not hurt her. I will protect her as lovingly as I protect my children.

When I am tired, I will rest. When I need to walk, I will walk. I will treat my body with the gentlest of care and respect.

* * * * *

nayyirah waheed said:
“be softer with you.
you are a breathing thing.
a memory to someone.
a home to a life.”

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