My Tempestuous Relationship with my Body

 

I have had messed up relationship with my body over the years if I’m being brutally honest. I’ve treated my body with contempt, disrespect and hatred. I have mistreated it, poisoned it, scarred it and despised it.
Low self esteem/Locking into mirror and see an ugly version of self

Now I see ‘myself’ as two. My body is only half of me. The other half being my soul; my spirit; my being. I’m still trying to fathom out where my mind and my emotions come in to all of this. I’ll leave those for another day.

As humans we seem to be so cruel and judgemental of each other. We seem to be cruel over body image most of all. I speak as someone who has been cruel and very judgemental, not only to myself but also of others. I now know it was because it made me feel better about myself; to deflect my own insecurities.

I’ve been judged on my body and the way I look since I can remember. I was born with 2 veins that protruded around my eyes. At school this was the bully’s piece de resistance. They made a meal out of that one well into my late teens.

I begged my GP to let me have them removed/tied. I was elated when I had had the procedure. However, the veins came back when I was 24 and even grown men and women would comment on them. Any self-confidence and self-esteem that I had built up was quickly demolished. Back I went to the GP where I was told that they would repeat the procedure but it would be the last time.

I was also bullied for being too skinny. My mother was all controlling with food. I would spend most of the time starving. She, on the other hand, would grow to an excess of 20 stone.

I had my son when I was very young, I was left with horrendous stretch marks. I haven’t worn a bikini since I was 14. My stomach is the focal point of my disgust both physically and psychologically.

These experiences would soon become the ingredients of a disorder. A disorder that I didn’t realise I had until a good 20 years later.

My body has been through an awful lot. It has endured years of alcohol and illegal substance misuse, childbirth, car accidents, grand mall seizures, and overdoses. It has known exhaustion and injury but despite all that, it has never ever failed me.

However, I have learned something really important. This body of mine is a container for my soul; my spirit; my being. Despite my best efforts to despise and destroy my body I now see it for something more than its physical traits.

I have an acceptance of how strong my body is. It is a home for my soul and I will do anything to look after it.

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One thought on “My Tempestuous Relationship with my Body

  1. I wish that I could find a recent post that was going around on the Internet and post it for you now. It is a picture of a woman in a bikini, without what we have come to think of as “a perfect body.” Underneath the picture she wrote about the beautiful way she received her stretch marks (by carrying her children) and the absolute blessings her body has brought to her. She said she loves her “imperfect body” because it is actually perfectly wonderful. I can’t say all that she said as beatutifully as she did, but it was wonderful, encouraging, and so supportive to women in general. I need to remember her remarks. I think we all do.

    Liked by 1 person

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