I wish I had written this, but I didn’t. However, everything that she says I want to say, every word and line in that text screamed something real into my head. (So maybe read that first…)
My body is not one that has been looked after. A week or so ago I sat on my bedroom floor as my mouth spilled out those words to my housemate. I have found that sitting cross legged on the floor often is when my heart spills itself out to the person sat opposite me: kitchens, livings rooms, bedrooms, hallways and bathrooms have all been paramount in me dealing with life things.
This time though, it was something that had sat in me for as long as I remember. From the age of 5 I could easily tell you what was wrong with me if you had asked. But you see, that is where my human brain got it wrong.
Nothing is wrong with me.
I may not fit into a definition of this world, I may not be understood my everyone, or liked by everyone. My body may not fit the ideals of how this world is. Most of the world does disagree with some of the things I fundamentally will not compromise on; but that does not mean anything is wrong with me. I am weird sometimes, and a little bit odd. I am scared sometimes, and fierce others. I do not like to be wrong in an argument but I am learning. And I literally always fall in the middle of two or more of the end options in any personality test. All of that is okay.
A few months ago I wrote a post about being un-apologetically you; about embracing all that I am and not saying sorry for it. Now I am realising that includes my body. My body that I starved of food because I thought I should shrink. My body that I ignored when it told me to slow down, or rest. My body that told me it was ill and needed energy. My body which is a creation. My body which alongside every other human body in existence is a miracle when I try and understand how it works.
There is nothing wrong with me, or my body. There is nothing wrong with you, or your body. It is perfect. Not in the way the world asks it to be, not in our human designed concept of that word. But in the eyes of it’s creator; it is perfect. It is made to be looked after, cared for and loved. It is part of what makes us who we are. I am not going to say that I understand it all, or that I do not have days where I want to hide in a corner or be someone else. But I do want to say sorry.
Sorry to my body for not looking after it and not listening to it’s warning signs.
Sorry to the people who have watched me battle with it, for the lies I have mirrored that we have to fit into a certain size or shape to be accepted and good. It isn’t true, you are perfect as you are.
I do not want to live in a world where it is normal for everyone to dream of changing themselves to fit a standard. I do not want to live in a world where that becomes what consumes so many children’s minds.
I want to live in a world where we can be un-apologetically ourselves. Where you and I can be us, no add on’s or hang ups. No apologising because we don’t like the latest music or best seller. No apologising because our thighs are bigger or smaller or whatever. It is a lie that we have to be more like Beyonce, it is a lie that if we only get to that size, or buy that item we will succeed. It is lies that tell us different is bad, or that different is good, but only if you are this type of different.
I can only say that getting up and being yourself is what is good, really good. Being the person who you are in that moment, on that day, is all you should be. Just allow yourself to be you, allow yourself to accept that person, learn to love that person.
And so will I, as I learn to be me, in my body and soul. I will continue to just show up and be me.