I started a practice a few years ago that completely changed my relationship with my body.
Most of my life was spent ignoring my body out of necessity. It started from a young age, unable to understand or withstand the trauma happening to my small frame. As she grew and took shape, I was told by church leaders to hide her so I wouldn’t cause men to sin. In the name of modesty, I willed myself to disappear. Others criticized and controlled my body’s appearance and I numbed out all sensation, silencing her soft, urgent voice.
A decade of talk therapy later, I felt things in my body I could no longer ignore. Anxiety felt like a tight belt just below my ribs, and I became aware of how much I avoided looking at or feeling my body at all. Even the smallest sickness caused me great anxiety. Pain has a way of forcing you back into the body you tend to vacate. I felt stuck and discouraged that even after years of therapy, I still felt so much shame and physical pain.
After a particularly difficult EMDR session, my therapist invited me to stand in front of the mirror naked (at home) and thank all the parts of my body I had a hard time connecting with. I snort laughed in awkward shock, and quickly replied, “um, have you met me??”
Spoiler alert – I didn’t start with the aforementioned exercise. It would have been a giant leap into intimacy with my body and I was still struggling just allowing her to be there. I’m so thankful I honored where I was at the time. My body and I needed a slow, gentle ease into relationship.
Years later, I walked past the mirror at the end of the hall and caught the expression on my face – it was a look of disappointment and avoidance. It stopped me right in my tracks. “No more, my love,” my inner knowing whispered.
And I took a huge risk. I smiled. The shy, unsure smile of a women not yet fully acquainted with her body. I didn’t stay there long. The interaction was brief and pleasant.
Slowly, on the days I felt ready, I would catch my glance and imagine I loved the woman staring back at me. Sometimes you have to practice love before you feel it.
This practice of love has grown into a ritual of staring deeply into my own eyes, past the awkward, past the avoidance, until I reach the true and vulnerable woman inside. Some days this practice brings tears. Tears of longing to be seen. Some days I feel the intense, beautiful power of my body and soul. And some days I look back at me with a look of, “I know. I know. You’re doing the best you can. I love you.”
Somewhere along the way, standing naked in front of the mirror has also become a practice of body acceptance and love. On good days, I tune into my body from my toes all the way up to my head, allowing all sensation to exist without fear or judgement. On hard days, I tell her I’m sorry for all she’s been through.
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Your relationship to your body makes sense. You are miraculous in the ways you have learned to cope and survive. And maybe you sense it’s time to move closer in. What would it look like to bring compassion to the next reflection you see? Give yourself permission to start gently, in ways that feel safe. Your body is beautiful and enduring. She is worthy of your presence and admiration.
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