How To Love Your Body

You remember playing volleyball in 9th grade just so that you could see your friends more often. You didn’t care about being in shape. You didn’t care about the ab drills. You didn’t care because you were the smallest person on the team. You didn’t care because you weighed 100 pounds. 

You remember wanting the curves of a woman’s body. You wanted strong legs, and a plump butt, and soft arms. You wanted to fill jeans out in the right way, as if there were a right way.

You remember the first time you looked in the mirror and saw something you wanted less of. You had just gone back-to-school shopping for your junior year in high school, and you were trying on your purchases in your bedroom. You remember pulling that teal tank top down over your stomach and not liking the little dip where your jeans met your hip. You remember staring at your reflection for an hour. You remember staring, and poking at yourself, and realizing that this was a new feeling for you. 

You remember times in your life where all you could think about was measuring food, and exercising profusely, and counting down how many days you had to prepare your body for a special event. 

You remember your college job, waiting tables at a sports bar. You remember your married boss telling you that you looked attractive after losing 10 pounds from strep throat. And you remember regretting not telling him to fuck off. 

But over the past few years, you’ve grown out of a lot of these thoughts. You’re able to see health for what it is, and you realize that it’s not so black and white. You realize that eating a doughnut for breakfast doesn’t mean that the day is ruined. It doesn’t mean that you should respond by eating everything in your path. 

You know that there’s good days, and okay days, and special occasions. You know that you can eat ice cream and a spinach salad on the same day and actually feel pretty good. 

And recently, you’ve really been enjoying your woman’s body. You enjoy all the parts. You enjoy your pretty legs that are just like your mother’s. You love your imperfect thighs that actually look pretty good in black skinny jeans. You like how your tummy looks in a crop top, even with the little bit of flesh rolling over when you sit down. 

You no longer think about food and exercise all the time. You no longer think in complex carbs, and fitting in cardio, and measuring ounces of lean protein. 

Now, you think about dancing. You think about being happy and enjoying good food with people you like. You think about drinking alcohol on the weekends. You think about eating mostly healthy foods, because you’d like to live to be 100 years old. 

Now, you only weigh yourself when you go to the doctor. Sometimes you’re pleasantly surprised. Sometimes you’ve lost a few pounds unintentionally. Sometimes you forget about the number completely. 

You think back to 9th grade and realize you’ve wanted this body all along. 

You still run. You still take walks. You still do some exercises you like. You still take vitamins, but you no longer write it down as a task in your planner. You’re still healthy, minus the crazy. 

And mostly, you dance.