During my trip back East, I was at the Jersey Shore (actually Down The Shore for those of us that know better). It was the first opportunity I had to wear one of those swim suits I bought a few weeks ago.
Funny how time and environment can change things.
I put on the one piece, stood in front of the mirror and thought — What the FUCK was I freaking out about?! Away from the emotion, harsh dressing room lighting and likely some mental processing via writing the story, I actually looked… well…good?
I’ve said it before, body image is fucked.
We went down to lounge on the beach, stare at the ocean, soak in Vitamin D…so peaceful. It is also great people watching. I did not see anyone that appeared uncomfortable in their body. If anything, people overwhelmingly comfortable in their body. This is still incredibly foreign to me. While I was not distracted and overly self conscious, I was aware of laying out in a swim suit.
While on the East Coast, I was in a happy body state. I felt STRONG! I felt every move and muscle and amazing things my body can do. I felt soft. I felt feminine.
I think about when I did not feel this way. When every waking moment was some inspection of (perceived or real) flab, skin I thought should be taut, stomach I wanted to be flat, thighs without dimples and skinny ankles (yes, at one point I wanted “skinny” ankles, how does one even achieve that?!).
I have learned our bodies are incredibly resilient. I know not everyone overcomes their battle with an eating disorder. Some even die from it. I think about when I was restricting calories, exercising multiple times a day, purging binge foods as well as a meal that was supposed to be nutritious and filling. The lows that I have brought myself to, the damage I (might) have caused my organs and muscles and still don’t know about. I know I have hit my own rock bottom mentality and physically.
I’m one of the fortunate ones.
I am recovering. I have continued to move forward.
It is an incredible balancing game every day.
I have had people ask me if I see how fit and beautiful I am. I… don’t.
I have moments in time when I walk by a mirror or see a window reflection and think — Who is that?! — like some imposter has taken over my body to show me a lie. I have never owned or believed that reflection is me. Never. Ever. Never
I still do not see reality. I know in my head that what I do not recognize in the mirror is what those around me see every day.
So where do I go from here?
I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it out. (Any suggestions?)
What I do know — I keep believing my body is capable. Keep owning my health and taking care as best I can.
And I keep looking for more reflections and believe what I see back in my own eyes.
