Loving My Body

My appreciation for my body has manifested in many ways lately. Since I've recently given so much attention to countering the negative voices I battle, now is a good time to give voice to the strongest positive voice I enjoy, my own.

Saturday evening I had a rather unpleasant meeting with a concrete floor when someone left an empty flat bed cart near the entrance of a local store. The handle was on the end furthest from me and the cart bed was the same color as the floor, so I didn't see it. As I fell, my arms flew over my head and my ribcage connected with the concrete floor full force. I imagine it would have hurt more without my extra padding. I know that my head would have collided with the concrete if not for my generous girth.

A few months ago, I posted that I intended to increase my physical activity in order to build strength and keep my circulation strong. When I started, I tracked distances and times and discovered that I am still able to walk at a pace that indicates a good fitness level without getting winded. I have since stopped tracking numbers because it was triggering my tendency to compulsively exercise. However, I am impressed with how strong my body is despite how poorly I cared for it during a difficult time.

Since I stopped thinking about how much or how often I exercise, I have discovered that I hate to sit still. Often, I will sit down to watch a movie, turn off the TV halfway through, and go for a wallk or drag my brother to the park to play horseshoes or feed ducks. I listen to music loudly and dance while I clean house, which works up a sweat and makes the cleaning more fun. It takes longer to get things done, but I enjoy doing them. I am discovering that I am more graceful and have more coordination than I ever guessed. There is joy in all of the ways I move my body.

My appreciation for the way my body looks is growing. When I see pictures that show how large my body is, rather than mourn how much space I take up, I rejoice in how beautiful and inviting my roundness looks. I love the shape of my butt, the curve of my hips, and the way that all of my curves remind me of balloons, melons, and all things deliciously round. My skin is every bit as soft as my curves. My legs are mostly muscle and my butt is mostly firm because I have walked almost everywhere I go since I was 15 years old. Most days, I walk just to be walking. My upper body is mostly fat because I've never needed much strength in my arms. I only use them for dancing, swimming, and hugging.

All of my appreciation for the strength and beauty of my body gives me good posture and confident body language. I don't hang my head to avoid eye contact with people anymore or use my body language to convey contrition for the way I look. I don't apologize for the amount of space I fill, being in pictures, or eating in public because my body shape is not the result of moral failure. Even when it is broken, I love my body for it's ability to cope with pain and to heal itself with time and proper care. I love my body for all of the pleasure and joy it contains and conveys.

Speaking for Everybody

When I worked in a small office, we had a going away party for a coworker who was leaving us for a better paying position with more opportunities for advancement. One of my coworkers, let's call her Bigloser because she had halved her body size with Weight Watchers, and I were trying to encourage our coworkers to show up to the party that night because they were talking like they wouldn't show up. One person was saying that she was too shy to dance. Since everybody thought I was shy because I'm a quiet person, I tried to show moral support by saying that I would dance if she showed up. Without missing a beat, Bigloser said, "River, NOBODY wants to see that." I believe that my reaction was to simply look at her and walk away. That night at the party, Bigloser bounced up to me and inquired, "River, why aren't you dancing?!" I looked dead into her eyes and said, "Bigloser, nobody wants to see that," and walked away.

I think my body language delivered the message more clearly than the words. I wasn't embarrassed or ashamed. I had a point to make about the weight of careless words. My head was high, my voice clear and steady, and my face stony. Here are your words. Choke on them.

I spent most of my life believing the people who claimed that they just wanted to be honest with me because they were speaking for everybody. They believed that I deserved to know that people refused my invitations to see movies or go for hikes because I was fat. They believed that I needed to know that men are visually stimulated by thin women and would never be attracted to me as long as I was fat because everybody is turned off by bodies with jiggling adipose tissue. I didn't have to be thin, but if I could just lose enough weight to get rid of the unsightly rolls I would fighting off the guys with a stick because I am so intelligent, pretty, kind, understanding, forgiving, accomodating, and loving. I'm the perfect woman, but I'm just too fat to be attractive.

I got the exact same lecture from male friends, female friends, and total strangers. If someone was alone with me for more than 5 minutes, they just wanted me to know that my life would be so different if I wasn't fat because I'm such an amazing person. If I wasn't fat, the world would lay out all of its treasures for me because I'm an amazing writer, a compassionate person, the kind of person who gives away the last of my money to help a band I believe in or provide lunch for a hungry friend, or whatever it was that made that person think that I'm someone deserving of the treasures of the world.

All of the working, sweating, vegetables, and virtuous eating humanly possible did not earn me the treasures of the world. It earned me the praise of people who ended up taking advantage of me and hurting me in ways that nobody should ever be hurt.

In the last year, the world has begun showering me with the treasures I was promised. I have confidence, love my body, and have friends who think that I am beautiful as well as all of the other things that people have always appreciated about me. I am fatter than I have ever been because of all of the starving I did and it has not stopped the world from opening up to me. Those people who spoke for everybody would be so embarrassed to know that thinness is not the magic key that they believed it was. They should be ashamed of themselves for so cavalierly saying words that they knew would hurt.

So, what's the magic key? Not believing people when they claim to speak for everybody. That simple thing makes it possible for me to be myself without embarrassment, excuse, or apology. When I am joyous about who I am, people joyously love me. Those who don't, can hang out with people they love. I'm not interested in what they think about me. I think they know that because they don't try to lecture me for my own good anymore. Those who do, quickly find out they are called to task for trying to speak for "everybody."

When I Don't Love My Belly

Most days, accepting my body is as natural as breathing. My body is round in lovely ways, strong in ways that make me feel powerful and capable, and graceful in ways that most people don't expect. It is a bit run down and occasionally stopped in its tracks by back pain, but it is still a source of pleasure and expression, so I accept the broken parts too.

Then, I have days like today. I woke up with a headache fit to burst my skull and felt like I was disgustingly untouchable. My pictures looked hideous to my eyes. My reflection in the mirror made me wince. Days like this are rare for me now, but they do happen. When I first began to accept my body, days like this were overwhelming. The feelings seemed to be truth and I was certain that I would fail to learn to accept my body. Now, that acceptance feels natural, the awful feelings look like feelings. I know they will pass because they always do. They suck in the meantime, but they do pass.

When days like this happen, I try a series of things until I feel better. I start with a basic checklist of needs. How did I sleep? Have I eaten recently? Am I hydrated? If the answers are all affirmative, I explore movement. I dance, bathe, clean house, go for a walk, and whatever else I think might make me feel grounded in a body that is strong and capable. That's usually all it takes, but sometimes, I have feelings that need to breathe. So, I journal, sit quietly, play music, or watch a movie that fits my mood and just wallow in the feelings for a couple of hours to see if they sort themselves out. Sometimes, I just need a good cry or a pout. Wallowing for too long can make feelings worse, so if I notice that I'm feeling worse, I stop. If I'm not feeling better within two or three hours, I stop and try something else.

If my needs are met, I've moved my body, and my feelings have had a chance to breathe and I'm still not feeling better, then I focus on what is right in my world. I write out the things that have improved over the last year, take myself out for a treat, or throw myself into a project that's more demanding than my mundane tasks.

Sometimes, nothing helps and I just have to wait for tomorrow to feel better.

Fortunately, writing this made me feel better today.

Power in the Belly

Today, I realized how much power I have over others because of the way I look. It isn't power I want, but knowing I have it makes it awfully tempting to abuse it. People have told me all my life that I have this power, but rather than embrace it, I tried to deny it, hide it, and protect others from it.

I have the power to make people physically ill, just because I exist. At least, that's what people tell me. They see me dance and tell me that watching me makes them nauseous. If any of my moves are remotely suggestive, they say that I make them never want to have sex again. The power to control the reproductive habits of others is mighty indeed! I am told that pictures of me have made people lose their appetites and their lunches.

All that power and responsibility for the well-being of others used to keep me locked inside my house for fear that I was harming others simply by looking the way I do. Now, it makes me want to wrap my arms around my belly and shake it at people who criticize me for being out in public. I want to grab a breast in each hand and waggle them when people stare at me. I want to go to a gym, put my hands behind my head and flap my upper arm flab at people who give me dirty looks. Why should I let any of them have a smidge of power over me when they have given me so much power?

Response to a Reader

In response to my post about Attraction, March 29 ’08, an anonymous poster left a comment asking for my advice. I encourage everyone to read the comment in its entirety. I am only posting an excerpt of it here:

My wife is my best friend, my soul-mate, and my lover. I want to be able to make her world the best it can be. So how does a woman of size make that transition- from someone scorned in public due to her fat, only to come home to someone who loves her fat. What can you, or your readers, offer as advice to those of us who love our fat wives live in both worlds? How can we make sure they know they are sexy? Maybe I am doing all I can, but I am open for anything that can make it even better.
April 26, 2008 2:00 PM

I hope that my readers do have some words of advice to add in the comment section of this post. I have not yet been in a relationship with someone who finds me physically attractive. So, my advice is based solely on my experiences as a single woman learning to love myself and to navigate a world that seems bent on invalidating my existence because of the size of my belly.

As I write this, I am assuming that many of these things are already in practice, but mentioning them anyway because they might be helpful for anyone who hasn’t tried them yet.

The most important thing for me is to have a home where I feel respected, safe, and valued. I save up money to buy furniture that can support my weight, doesn’t make my back hurt, and expresses my sense of style to at least some degree. I find ways to balance my food preferences with my budget so that I never feel I have to eat something that doesn’t satisfy me. I make meal times an enjoyable experience for myself.

Right now, I don’t have the luxury of living alone, so I’ve made it clear that my home is a deprecation-free zone and don’t tolerate people speaking ill of themselves or of others. I simply remind people that unkind words are harmful to both the speaker and the hearer and the conversation naturally flows to more healthy topics. There’s plenty of room for disagreement and debate about the qualities of politics, movies, etc. However, when it comes to personal remarks about appearance or making generalizations about someone’s character based on hearsay, I bring the conversation back around to compassion for others. I also don’t tolerate gossip because it’s almost always deprecating in on way or another.

When my home is a safe and welcoming place towards my body, I am better equipped to cope with how the world around me can be a very harsh place towards my body. I find my body language to be my most powerful tool. I stand up straight, walk at a comfortable pace, and keep my body relaxed. In situations where I have to interact with others, I make eye contact, smile, and speak clearly and audibly. Those things are so simple that they come naturally to many people, but I still have to work at them on occasion, especially if I’m tired or just not in the mood to be out in public. Sometimes, I just don’t bother, but I keep in mind that any negative reactions I get have more to do with the other person than with the choice I made to not care about my posture.

As a husband, you are in a position to observe your wife’s body language and let her know which body language receives more positive response from people she interacts with and to let her know when she’s using body language that people are more negative towards. You can also be an advocate for your wife with your own body language. You don’t need to put on a show. Being snuggly and giggly in public if you aren’t naturally affectionate is going to look false, which never helps. It’s enough to simply be as comfortable with her in public as you are at home. When you are enjoying her company and refusing to look apologetic for being with her, it makes it harder for people to be disrespectful because they will be disrespecting you as well as her. There really is strength in numbers, even if that number is only two. There is also a social tendency for someone to seem more attractive to others when others see that there is someone attracted to that person.

You can both remind each other that other people’s negativity reflects more strongly on them and the culture we live in than on your bodies. The hardest lesson for me to learn has been that other people are as responsible for their feelings, thoughts, and actions as I am for mine. I do not give people dirty, pitying, or unpleasant looks for being different than me because I believe that all human beings deserve the simple respect of being seen as human beings. Sometimes, it’s hard for me because I have developed negative attitudes people who dress certain ways or behave certain ways. However, I take responsibility for those feelings and do my best to make sure that I don’t behave in a way that makes me feel hurt when people behave that way towards me. When, I fail, I just keep working on it. So, if a human being like me can be aware of my thoughts, feelings, and behaviors, then I have no reason to expect less from other human beings.

Since other people frequently aren’t aware of how they fail to take responsibility for their actions, I spend a lot of extra energy on taking responsibility for my reactions to the way they choose to treat me. Sometimes, I try to be an example of better behavior. Other times, I say something to point out their behavior. Most times, I do some combination of the two. Sometimes, I’m just tired and I don’t even bother.

I have found that the best way to learn to do all of this stuff is to simply speak my mind unapologetically. I tend to be very polite in my speech, so I don’t run into trouble very often. However, I do find that simply expressing my opinion or feelings can make a huge difference when someone doesn’t realize they are being hurtful, and even when they are being intentionally hurtful.

If your wife doesn’t speak for herself very much, give her opportunities to do so. It can be as simple as encouraging the wait-staff to be respectful while she places her order at a restaurant. I’ve noticed that wait-staff are more respectful towards me when I place my own order, especially if I appear comfortable and make eye contact while I do it. I have found that they tend to look at other people at the table while I’m making my order. When I’m with good friends, my friends will turn their eyes towards me, which forces the person to look at me. Once, one of my friends made a polite comment about eye contact and respectful listening because the person hadn’t gotten the hint. Since then, when I’m alone, I’ll ask the wait-staff to look at me if they are looking around uncomfortably when I’m placing my order. Most of the time, I’ll hide the request behind a polite question. “I noticed that you keep looking over there. If there’s something you need to take care of, I’m not in a hurry and would prefer it if you came back when you are less distracted.”

Whether I am direct or indirect, I find that requesting respectful behavior from others usually works. Obviously, it’s less effective with people who are actively hostile, but I’m finding that I don’t run into such people very often. I think it’s because they tend to avoid people with the confidence to stand up for themselves. I hear that such people prefer “easy marks”.

When it comes to feeling sexy in a world that tells me that my body is the polar opposite of sexy, I’m finding myself doing a lot of work with simply looking at myself without judgment. I’ve had some wonderful people tell me that I’m beautiful and I couldn’t believe them because I believed that I wasn’t. A few months ago, I wrote in my private journal that I don’t like recent pictures of me because I look like those pictures that media outlets use to illustrate their stories about health and dieting. I’ve got a butt that overflows seats, “side-boobage”, and “granny wings”. My belly sticks out farther than my breasts, so it looks kind of like somebody stuck two grapefruit on top of a pumpkin.

After a day of dancing while cleaning my home, I was feeling amazing because my body is strong and far more coordinated than I ever believed. When I looked at my pictures that day, I saw pretty eyes, apple cheeks, glowing skin, and an amazingly beautiful roundness to my body that I had never noticed. I looked so sweetly round like a balloon or a baby animal that I just wanted to curl up with myself and read a good book.

Since then, I have been striving to put more fun into my life and finding ways to explore the strength and beauty of my body. I think that the best thing you can do is to encourage your wife to find out what makes her feel strong, alive, and beautiful. Then, enjoy those activities as often as possible. Sure, it’s healthy, but above and beyond that, it’s a joyous celebration of life to breathe deeply, use your muscles, and sweat. If it hurts or makes you winded/miserable, you are doing it wrong. At least that’s my philosophy because I have so much fun and my body is so much stronger when I am enjoying the amazing things it can do.

When I talk about my body, I compare it to things that I love. I love my apple cheeks and pumpkin belly. I don’t even like apples or pumpkins, but I remember reading stories about little old grannies with those features and wanting to grow up to be like that. Knowing that I have the body for it makes me smile. People look at me funny for comparing my body to food, but I’m sick of being embarrassed to mention food just because I’m fat. People are going to believe I’m fat because I eat everything I see whether I talk about food or not, so I’m going to talk about food joyfully and unapologetically. Food is a joyous gift. We are so lucky to live in a culture where we have access to so many delicious foods. We can eat foods that satisfy us physically and emotionally while fueling our bodies for all of the amazing activities we get to enjoy. Why would we waste our energy judging every little thing as if a cookie is the difference between a virtuous life of thinness or a degenerate fat belly? Thin isn’t virtuous and fat isn’t degenerate.

I hope that some of this is new for you and helps to foster a loving and accepting atmosphere in your home. My favorite thing about learning to love and accept myself is how it has increased my ability to love and accept the people who are important to me. I hope that you and your wife continually grow in your love for yourselves and each other.

Attraction

My brother is developmentally delayed. His understanding of interpersonal relationships is somewhere around 8 years old. He understands basic concepts, but the nuances are completely lost on him. The world is very simple for him.

Earlier today, my brother was watching Phat Girlz, so I commented that I didn't know he liked that movie. He enthusiastically told me that Monique is HOT! He loves big girls with "kick ass attitudes," all the better if they are black. He thinks Queen Latifah is the perfect woman. As much as I was surprised by his enthusiasm for women who don't fit the cultural ideal of beauty, I was utterly shocked that he didn't feel the need to talk badly about women who do. Why would he? He likes some of them too.

My brother knows what the cultural ideals are. He just thinks that's what other people like and that's ok too. Other people can like whatever they want as long as they don't pick on him for liking what he likes. He doesn't do that to them because it's mean and they should know better.

So, if my brother can grasp the concept that attraction is subjective, what excuse do people have for believing that anyone who is thin is attractive and anyone who is fat is unattractive by default? What excuse do I have?

My brother's honesty about what he wants stands in sharp contrast to my belief that the people I find most attractive would never find me attractive because I'm built so differently than they are. I have fallen victim to my own notion that if I support fat acceptance, I am somehow obligated to find fat attractive.

I don't find fat unattractive, gross, or off-putting. I am simply attracted to people who are 6'+ tall and built like rails. I am all the more attracted to them because the people who have shown the strongest interest in dating me have been built like that. Which brings me back to wondering why I feel the need to convince myself that people who are built like that could never find me attactive just because I'm not built like that. The evidence stands in strong opposition to that belief.

Attraction can't be measured by the size of a fat roll, a clothing label, a measure on a scale, or any other arbitrary measure that people try to use to define a degree of attractiveness that they consider universal. The universal seductress is a plot device. It's a myth. That person doesn't exist. It is as impossibe to attract all of the people all of the time as it is to please all of the people all of the time simply because attraction is as subjective as pleasure.

Too Late, Prince Charming.

A few weeks ago, I put up a personals ad. I have gotten so used to thinking of myself as an interesting and attractive person that I am surprised by the common theme of the responses I've been receiving.

One person made it very easy to identify why I felt so surprised when he wrote, "I guess and do hope that I am the first to tell you how ravishing you are."

When I was younger and believed that first loves were the best loves and wanted all of my firsts to be with the person I would grow old with, such a sentiment would have seemed deeply romantic and sincere. Here is my prince, come to sweep me off of my feet into a world of firsts. Prince Charming is about a decade too late. I got tired of saving up my firsts and missing out on my life a long time ago.

This guy missed being the first to find me attractive and offer me a sincere compliment by about 22 years. When I was 11 years old, I was fat, smelly, poor, and even caught lice when it ran through the neighborhood. I was unwanted by my parents and harshly ridiculed by every person I came into contact with. It was inconceivable that anybody could possibly be indifferent to me, let alone actively like me. That was when the little red-haired boy, with freckles and thick glasses, walked up to me and told me how much he wished he wasn't moving away because he wouldn't get to see me anymore.

He was only the first to express a fondness for looking at me. I have broken hearts and had my heart broken. I have received sincere compliments about my beauty and sexiness. I have received more than one genuine marriage proposal. I am not waiting around for someone to see past my fat. My body is not a disguise that prevents people from seeing how wonderful I am. I am single for many valid reasons that are in no way related to the size of my belly.

It surprises me that people still believe that being condescending towards my appearance is a compliment. It boggles my mind that people believe it complimentary to imply that nobody else has ever found me attractive. I understand that it's an attempt to claim the position of being the one exceptional person who sees me for who I truly am. However, I've experienced enough to know that such a position is earned over time, not claimed by offering a token sentiment.