Body Image

I'm going to say it: I hate my body.

Now, I've read all the articles that say you need to love your body, no matter what size or shape it is. My guided imagery CD's tell me to get in tune with my body, "your lifelong companion, your most faithful friend." Bullshit!

I cannot remember a time when I did not hate my body, when I did not see it as the enemy. Maybe when I was a young girl. No, I was always less coordinated than the other kids. I couldn't run as fast. I tripped when I tried to jump rope. In my mind, I could see myself doing all those things, but my body wouldn't cooperate with me.

Then, when my body put on its growth spurt and I towered above all the girls and most of the boys, I felt betrayed. My body made me different than everyone else. None of the other 10 year old girls had to wear a bra, or had to worry about "feminine protection." My ungainly height and non-gracefulness made me the target of the cruelest taunts by neighborhood boys and teasing in the schoolyard.

Above all else, my body is what was molested when I was eleven years old.

Now, I've been through therapy and I know none of that was my fault in any way, but my body continues to be my enemy.

My fat body is like a billboard advertising my lack of self-discipline to all the world. I may eat in private, but the pounds show up on the body that goes out in public. It shouts, This person eats too much and doesn't exercise enough!! No matter how hard I try to fade into the background, it betrays me.

Now, my body has found new and improved ways to torment me. It doesn't work right any more. Pain, fatigue, sleep disturbance, digestive problems, weakness -- my body has rebelled against me once again.

Is it any wonder? I don't look upon my body as the "real" me. The real me exists in my spirit, my mind, my personality. The body is just something that contains the real me. It doesn't accurately reflect who I am. It's just a vehicle to transport the essence of Me in this world.

I realize that I need to learn compassion for my body. It is part of the real me, whether I like it or not. It's one of the pieces that makes up the whole. I can abuse it, and hate it, and mistreat it as much as I want, and that fact will not change.

I can look on my fibromyalgia as just another sin against me by this traitorous body that I am stuck with, another aggravation. But, I don't want to keep this battle going. I am 43 years old. I need to make peace with all of me -- the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Maybe the FM is a cry from my poor, tired, abused body. Maybe the years of mental and emotional anguish have contributed to the intricate chemistry imbalance that causes my physical problems. Maybe there is some tiny nugget of truth to the theory that there is a connection between post traumatic stress disorder (my official "mental" diagnosis) and fibromyalgia.

I'm tired of this battle. I no longer have the energy to loathe my body. It obviously doesn't do any good to see my body as my enemy. It's time to do something different. I'm making an effort to connect with my body in a compassionate way. It's going to be hard to make this change -- 43 years of unconscious patterns have been laid down in my mental pathways. But I need to do it.