Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

I've written a fair bit about body image in this space, about the ways we look at our bodies, how we view our corporeal selves, how weight and life changes affect that view over time.  I've talked about cultural visual ideals, and how almost none of us can live up to the visual cultural ideal of our time.  The gap between what is presented as visually desirable (aka "normal") and what is real is very large.  I suspect that most of us struggle with body image because of this gap.

I'll be the first to say that I don't have the answer, or a little secret I'm going to let you in on that will help you feel better in your body.  I've gone through periods of profound discomfort in my skin--times where I would like to rip off the offending bits of myself--the parts that will never ever conform to what society says is beautiful and good.  Times when I can hardly stand to look at myself in the mirror.  I've also had times where I feel okay about my body--I can appreciate what it does for me, the quirks of my proportions, my freakish strength, my curly hair and never-tans skin.  I can have gratitude that I am here and moving and breathing.

This morning, I had a radical thought.  What if we could actually love the bits of ourselves that are "unlovely"?  Not just tolerate them, or learn to accept them, but really love them?  The parts we find most offensive about ourselves.  The bits of flab that are always going to be there, the thinning or gray hairs, or the chin hairs that need constant maintenance?  What if I can say to myself, this loose skin on my belly is worthy of love because it is fearfully and wonderfully made?  This thin hair on my head is worthy of love because it is fearfully and wonderfully made? 

What if I could say that I love the curve of my belly because it is feminine?  (Possibly the best line ever said by a man to a woman of a certain age: "I love your body because it is a proper woman's body.")  What if I could say that my rear aspect is fine as it is?  That those curves were made that way just for me?

What if I just stopped thinking so much about how my body doesn't measure up and just lived the measure of my body?  I've been thinking on and off about what Stasia says about inside-out congruency, and about the messaging I have in my head about my body.  Very little of that messaging is positive, and frankly, I'm tired of it.  So rather than spending so much emotional energy trying to tell that voice in my head to shut up, I think I'd rather devote my energy to directing the voice to a positive place.

So here's a start.  Repeat after me: My body is beautiful just as it is right now.  Not seven pounds lighter, not taller, not with a flat stomach or small bottom, thin biceps, or better hair.  Just as it is. 

Because this is my body, given to me by God, and it is fearfully and wonderfully made, I will learn to take care of this gift.