Body negativity

Shame, weight, and body positivity. Yep, the beach season is here. Where's my beach bod??!

*all art done by me

I take my clothes off in the bathroom, and I’m disgusted by what I see in the mirror. Every day. Some parts of me I like but most of my body screams “you lazy fat-ass woman! What have you done to yourself?!”

The beach season is late in my cold part of the world. Couldn’t say I’m disappointed. Not this year. I’m ashamed of what my body has become. Shame. Disgust. I will not be letting the sun bathe my skin this year. Why? I’m ashamed to undress in public. A bikini?! Are you kidding me? Sounds like a nightmare.

Last year I was in a relatively good shape due to nursing my youngest kid. She literally sucked the life out of me. I got used to the nice feeling of seeing my bones, and muscles, where now a fatty meat-suit hides it all. A wonderful year of a writer’s diet - not getting enough sleep and exercise, snacking while procrastinating; has made my body grow out of all proportions.

Why am I rambling on about this? Who cares about my fat ass? Well, body positivity has been a thing for a couple of years now. We are encouraged to love, and accept obesity as the new standard of beauty. Fatty models grinning from clothing ads. And, yes, it’s nice to be nice, and pretend it’s perfectly okay to live an unhealthy lifestyle. It’s kind to pretend we like seeing obese models, or dancers, while most of us are silently gagging in our thoughts. They were born that way, you see. It’s not their fault, it’s genetics, or big bones, or childhood trauma. Fucking excuses.

My fat butt is entirely MY fault. I was lazy, I was eating more than I needed, I wasn’t moving enough to burn those calories. Yeah, I could find excuses, sure. Obesity runs in my family. All my female ancestors turned round in their bellies and bottoms at the wonderful age of forty. How convenient, I’m about to be 39! Oh, well, I guess there’s nothing I can do…

NO! No. I can smear all the body-positivity slogans over my shame, but it doesn’t hide it. It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like seeing my body in the mirror. I don’t think most of the obese body positivity influencers truly love what they see in the mirror. They’re high on their delusions, and the affirmations from others. But when they’re alone, standing by that damn mirror naked, I don’t think they like what they see.

Shame is a highly sensitive tool. Some would like to get rid of it. Why should we humans feel ashamed? Shame is a relic of the past, some say. But I believe shame has a purpose. If used wisely, it’s like a surgeon’s scalpel. It cuts into the foul parts of us, showing what exactly is wrong. I say - if you feel ashamed, it’s good! Congrats! You’re still a human being capable of assessing your own actions, not a hallow shell living on affirmations. Analyse your shame! Is it objective, or is it the lack of confidence nagging you?

In my case, shame is 100% correct. It says, I had been leading an unhealthy lifestyle which brought me naked to this mirror, that showed something I didn’t like.

But what now? Should shame lead to hate? Should I hate my body? No. No, I should not. Right now, my body is in need of my conscious decision to improve its state. It’s in need of my action. I shouldn’t hate it. My body is an instrument given to me by God. Therefore, I must take good care of it.

I remember when I studied art. We drew a lot of nudes. Mostly women. None of them had perfect figures. They were over-weight, or they had weirdly-shaped breasts, or appendicitis scars, or stretchmarks or cellulite… but when I drew them, I found how oddly beautiful each body curve is when the artist’s pencil or a piece of charcoal studies it. The human body is beautiful. It should be loved, and cherished.

My body isn’t perfect now. That I am ashamed of. But I will do my best to get it back in shape. To make it healthy, and fit again. Not because I hate it, quite the opposite. Because I love it.

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