When we think about our bodies we tend to fixate on how bad we have it. We think we got the short end of the stick with our curly hair, pug nose, shortness, small breasts, freckles, limited mobility, chronic condition. We cannot believe our bad luck, our crappy circumstances, the hand we were dealt. It would be one thing to have freckles, we think. But, really, did we have to get the limp, thin hair thrown into the equation, too, we lament.And yet, what if we reimagined that. What if we shifted our whole perspective and, rather than focus on our shortcomings, really saw ourselves instead?
Because here is the thing that you must know: YOU are someone’s long end of the stick. YOU are someone’s “if only.”
What, you say. Impossible.
But actually it is not just possible, it is true. Someone has looked at you across the way and focused in on some part of your fabulousness and
said, “I wish”. Perhaps even at the same moment you are wishing away your physical self.
That is the crazy thing. The very thing we loathe is something someone else loves.
I used to complain about my hair a lot (and, truth be told, I sometimes still do). And one of my dearest friends has always raved about it, always admired it, always told me that I was wrong. There are moments now where I am actually able to see my crazy curls through her lens and that is pretty incredible.
Today, I want you to entirely shift your perspective. Every time you are apt to complain about your curvy bum, full or flat chest, straight or curly hair, or whatever else is your thing, I want you to stop and say, “this is someone’s dream and I choose to respect it so that I can learn to love it in that same way.” And move on, more and more into yourself, into the unique physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual perspective that you have been given and that you have created for this life.
What a lovely post! It is so easy to get stuck in your head and not realize the blessings already present.
Your sentiments came to have meaning for me several years ago, as I was lamenting my inflexibility and thick thighs and various lumps and bumps in the women’s gym, and happened to overhear two other women asking each other what their exercise goals were; one of them said, “I just want to look like her (nodding towards me),” and the other responded, “You have to be realistic, and focus on what’s great about you.” I’m tall and relatively slim, but NOT PERFECT, and of course I spent virtually all my attention on the things I thought were wrong about my body, until I overheard this wise woman turn my perceptions upside-down. Remembering this is always a good reality-check for me!
What a powerful story, Marsha. Thank you so much for sharing!
Speaking as someone who has multiple chronic conditions but whose health remains…okay-ish…my experience is that although I’m sure there are plenty of women who wish they were “only” as sick as me, the perspective of other chronically ill people is not really as you describe. I’m “in the club” now, and anytime I express something to the effect of, “I should be grateful my health isn’t worse,” or, “I shouldn’t be complaining, I know you have to deal with much worse,” the other members of the club are quick to point out that I shouldn’t minimize how hard things can be for me, even from people who are, in fact, obviously much worse off than I am. I’ve never once had someone even give the impression that they were secretly thinking, “Girlie, I’d trade places with you in a hot minute.”
Acceptance is key, but loving or even respecting my genetically crappy health is…I’d say not a worthy goal. Not like loving and respecting my fat body, big nose and curly hair. There’s something that sets my teeth on edge about the idea that there’s really any comparison between having curly hair and having poor health.
Thank you so much for sharing your perspective and experience, Shaye. You make some valuable points that are really important to consider. As someone who has a condition that has affected my cognition and another chronic condition that alters how my body looks (in the midst of wreaking havoc on my health), I personally found that it was important for me to find peace with and even love for what I received genetically (not that there aren’t some moments where I don’t think, “seriously, this bites.”). But, of course, just because that is true for what I needed on my journey, doesn’t mean that it is true for what everyone needs for his/her journey. I am with you wholeheartedly on acceptance always being a good and necessary step towards something that looks like peace.