on body image (the good and the bad)...

I remember the exact moment I first had any insecurity about my body.

I was in fifth grade, sitting at my desk, and I happened to look down at my legs. I was wearing some sort of floral bike shorts (I swear they were in style back then) and sitting in my uncomfortable desk chair had caused my thighs to flatten out significantly against the cool metal. For some reason, I'd never noticed it before, but it caught me completely off guard. I remember immediately feeling my face flush and thinking, "Oh, my gosh! My legs look huge! How gross! I can't believe I never noticed that before!"

I remember that from then on, whenever I was sitting somewhere, I was always trying to lift my legs a little to make them look thinner. Which is a completely ridiculous thing for a pocket-sized ten year old to think. And what's even more ridiculous, is that I didn't tell anyone about my new-found self consciousness. I kept it to myself. As many girls do, I suppose.

But I guess that's where it began.

Body image is something that has been on my mind a lot lately. I've been thinking back to every insecurity I had when I was growing up, and the things I've worried about more recently. I'm thankful that, for the most part, I've learned to accept myself and the way I am. It certainly helped that I had such encouraging parents who never made me feel less than beautiful - even through (as my sisters and I refer to them as) "the awkward years". But even now, there is still that ache...the one that makes me think, "Well, if I could just change this one thing..."

To be honest, there are certain things I've grown to love about myself. I'm okay with my fair skin - even though I definitely appreciate the glow I get this time of the year. I used to think I was too short, but now 5' 4" seems just right - the perfect size for hugging my husband. I used to absolutely hate my nose and thought my profile was horrible, but now I quite like it - I'm even entertaining the idea of getting it pierced. And the list goes on and on, really. I think that most of the things I used to be insecure about I've rather grown out of disliking. Especially now that I'm old enough to appreciate the things about people that make them different - all the little quirks and inconsistencies that make people more beautiful - and real.

(For the record, I was one of the people who was horribly disappointed when Ashlee Simpson had the surgery to change her nose. I'm still a little depressed about it, actually.)

Anyway, this is all to say one thing: I'm torn. Between truly accepting myself, and wanting to "fix" things. And sometimes I wonder if I will ever, ever truly be happy with myself. It's so difficult for a female to truly embrace herself in this culture. We are told, "Love yourself! You are perfect the way you are! Embrace your imperfections!" And yet, in the same breath they're whispering, "Do this to make yourself look better! Wear this makeup to be prettier! Lose that weight and then maybe people will find you attractive! There is always something for you to work on!" It's sickening. I recently read an excellent post by The Demoiselles, where they point out just how negative advertising can be - and I urge everyone to read it. They point out a serious issue - incredibly eloquently, at that. And you know what? All this advertising and other crap in the media? This is the exact reason we never feel good enough.

It's almost as though we aren't allowed to.

I have days where I feel like a goddess and realize how healthy I really am. I remember that I'm still down 10 lbs. from where I was post-honeymoon, which is a good thing. I realize that I eat out maybe twice a week, pack my lunches for work, and make sure my diet includes a lot of water and fruit and whole grains. I realize that in the last couple years, I've discovered a side of me that I never knew existed - the side of me that can run a few miles without slipping into a coma of exhaustion. I realize that I really do love my hair, my smile, the shape of my legs, the way my eyes get all squinty when I laugh.

However, there's the other side of me that thinks I need to lose more weight. The side of me that thinks, "No, you can't be happy with yourself yet. There is still more you could work on. You aren't perfect yet." The side that is acutely aware of the tummy rolls when I'm slouched over on the couch, and sometimes makes me feel disgusted. The side that makes me feel guilty for silly things - like putting mayonnaise on my sandwich instead of mustard, or having a soda when I'm at a restaurant instead of water, or putting ranch instead of vinaigrette on my salad. The side that makes me feel like that little girl who needs to hide the things she thinks aren't perfect - her thighs, her freckles, her wavy hair.

I'm constantly battling thoughts of how I need to do more, need to look a little better - even though I'm probably the healthiest I've been in the last five years. Why can't I just be happy?

It's horrible, because no matter how much I want to simply accept myself, I don't know if it will ever happen. I'm worried that I'll always compare myself to other girls, I'll always wish I could go back to the size zero I was when I was seventeen, I'll always wish I was someone who lived for going to the gym, I'll always hate that my stomach is never perfectly flat. But hopefully, I'll continue to love myself the best way I can - after all, I've been given so much, and truly don't have the right to be so incredibly hard on myself. This body I've been blessed with is just that...a blessing. What right do I have to complain?

What I would like to see happen, is some sort of a revolution. I'd like for us to really challenge the excuses of those celebrities who have their ribs showing, who claim to simply be "naturally tiny". I'd like for more companies to truly represent women in their advertising - not just the cookie-cutter ideal. I'd like for magazines to stop oohing and ahhing over the new moms who are back to their size 2 jeans, just weeks after giving birth (shouldn't we instead be applauding them for their parenting?). I'm not really sure how to make any of these things happen, but I know that it's only a matter of time before my head explodes from all the mixed messages we receive.

However, I do find encouragement in a lot of ways. Simple things, usually. A sweet compliment from a stranger, an extra sweet word and snuggle from my husband, finding someone else who understands exactly what I struggle with - those sorts of things. I received this in my email last month, and I wanted to share it with you because it's something I think each of us should have taped to our bathroom mirrors:

The time will come when you'll see that pretty much

everything was better than you thought.

That life was more beautiful, people were kinder,

greens were greener, and the water was cleaner.

But most of all, you'll see...that you were simply stunning,

every day of your life.

Happily, I've always known the truth,

The Universe

(via Notes from the Universe)