Peace of Body

I have to admit, I’m sick and tired of trying to change my body. I find the same diet trends that disappear and then resurface on instagram anxiety-inducing; the flurry of workouts that pop up incessantly on facebook exhausting. I’m burnt out from the high protein breakfast ideas, as well as the “what I eat in a day” trends that seem almost identical. Even more so, I‘m frustrated that despite living in an era that is more than ever in favor of loving your body, I still struggle with accepting mine. All this being said, I still find myself taking screen-shots of brownies made from sweet potatoes that I’m never going to try.

I feel like that damn hamster in a cage analogy. As much as I try to run away from it all, I still can’t seem to get anywhere. And I know I’m not alone.

As a young girl, I was your typical, impressionable, preteen wannabe.

I wanted to be popular, of course. Pretty, obviously. But more importantly: I wanted the perfect body.

On the daily, in the same journal that I declared my self-love, I would sketch drawings of girls in my class who I wanted to look like. I would even label these illustrations, “Who I wish I was.” My detailed diagrams consisted of arrows drawn in sparkly gel-pens pointing to different sections of a girl’s body, with explanations such as ‘perfect toned calves,” and ‘tiny abercrombie waist.” They were quite comprehensive. At the age of ten, I held my breath while standing in front of the bathroom mirror, obsessing over my torso, hands wrapped tightly around my hips in a vain effort to appear slimmer. I still catch myself doing that to this day.

Even my brother, who when we were younger would mimic my behavior like most younger siblings do, never felt the need to dissect his body the way I did. I think about this often, how difficult it is to be an adolescent girl. It’s almost as if self-scrutiny is ingrained in us, like a tiny seed that sprouts when we receive our first Britney Spears album. And what about y0ung people today in the era of tablets and smartphones? It’s hard enough as an adult to remember not to compare and contrast while scrolling social media, but what if your mind is too immature to comprehend self-sabotage? Before we’re old enough to understand the importance of appreciating our intelligence, talents, and capacity for growth, we simply base our self-worth on the first thing our eyes land on: our bodies. As a woman in my early thirties, I wish I could say I left my obsession with my body behind with my diagrams decorated with butterfly stickers…but it’s a difficult habit to break, one that appears to last a lifetime. Although on one hand this may seem depressing, the other hand serves as a reminder that my body is only a small percentage of what makes me who I am.

And yet, my body is still almost all I can ever think about.

What I find most interesting, and even more aggravating, is that I’ve never been able to hit my goal weight, or make it to a place where I’m confident in my body. Even when I’ve tried more extreme diets like whole 30 or keto, I get close to where I want to be, and then like clockwork, I spiral out of control until I‘m right back where I started. The amount of times in my life I’ve hid in my car, hunched over a box of cookies or donuts, shoving pastries in my mouth while simultaneously hating myself, I can’t even tell you. I know this isn’t unique. A lot of people struggle with yo-yo dieting, and that’s what I find so intriguing: how very similar we are. It’s so easy to get down on yourself and feel like you’re constantly failing, but it has to mean something if a large majority of people are doing the exact same thing.

So what is the underlying root issue here? Obviously psychology is a huge factor. There’s a ton of books on the topic, probably a billion web articles claiming it all boils down to “believing you are capable,” “how self-sabotage destroys you,” or “fear of success.” But what I’m about to say might surprise you: I don’t think it really matters. I used to be of the belief that nothing would change until I learned to love my body first, but the brutal reality is, the negative views I have of myself are so ingrained that I still haven’t been able to do that. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate my body, or have gratitude for how much it’s done for me. Deep down I know that it’s beautiful, and I’d like to believe one day I’ll actually believe it. But how do I get there? How do I break the cycle?

In the past I would be desperate for some ‘quick fix,’ in an effort to lose weight as rapidly as possible. That’s what drew me to diets such as keto: the promise of a completely different body in weeks. These diets work, but they’re not sustainable. I realized that, and yet I would keep trying, either a different meal plan or different fad altogether. The constant: fast results. As if the concept of living with myself was unbearable— the quicker I change, the happier I’ll finally be. In fact, it’s this mentality that lead me to my latest weight loss endeavor: a six-week-challenge where the winners with the most noticeable transformations are given cash prizes. I signed up for this program because I figured I needed a different kind of motivation, plus the structure appealed to my competitive nature. And honestly, the creator of this program has the kind of body I’ve always dreamed of- lean, muscular, and fit. So once again, I was all in.

But then I wasn’t.

Something changed during this challenge. I started out 100% committed— I was following the personalized meal plan to a T, doing the workouts, counting my macros— I felt good, focused, determined. But something was different… I realized I was actually enjoying being healthy. I was eating fresh vegetables, strength training, getting good sleep, and overall just treating my body with care. I was being kind to myself, instead of simply willing my body to be different. I continued tracking my macros, but I stopped obsessing over counting calories. If I felt beat down, I took a rest day instead of forcing myself through a workout. I drank wine, and had pasta and tiramisu with my boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. I started measuring my progress on how I felt, rather than solely on what I looked like. I realized that what had been missing throughout my past attempts to change myself, was kindness. Self-awareness. Joy. I realized that loving my body doesn’t necessarily mean I have to love what I see in the mirror; it means treating myself with compassion instead of self-hate.

I just finished the 6-week-challenge, but contradictory to a program where I push myself for a month and a half before falling back into old habits, I’ve found what I’ve needed my entire life: a lifestyle. Although I didn’t achieve the total body transformation I was seeking initially, what ended up happening was even more remarkable: I stopped obsessing over the end result, and instead focused on improving just 1% more each day. The more I did this, the happier I became, and the less my reflection in the mirror even mattered.

No matter who you are, loving your body is hard. The world we live in today certainly doesn’t make it any easier, but regardless, it’s a challenge. I feel like self-love can be seen as an all-or-nothing concept, and I don’t believe that’s very conducive. Maybe we’re not happy with our bodies, and that’s okay. However, if we can learn to act from a place of kindness instead of harshness, compassion instead of criticism, and gratitude instead of disdain, we can begin to appreciate ourselves for what we can do instead of what we cannot. Change is so much more powerful when it’s planted in positivity. Two people could be following the exact same diet and exercise routine, but I would bet money that the person who focuses on actually enjoying the process is a lot more successful, both physically and mentally. After all, health is for life, and personally I prefer to relish the journey.

Maybe one day I’ll get to that place where I stop scanning my body for imperfections, and maybe I won’t. Either way, I’m at peace.

And peace is all I can ask for.