This Is About Body Love, Apologies, and Compliments Without Comparisons

Part I: I’m Nixing Apologies For Rocking Cutoffs
It has long been a tenant of mine not to throw “I’m sorry” around mindlessly, but sometimes it comes out between the lines that are verbally expressed. Silent apologies are apologies still and everyone can hear the subtext.

A couple of things I know beyond a shadow of a doubt:
  • Body blues get to us all from time to time.
  • It truly is a journey to fully, wholly, unconditionally love your body.
And yet somehow I still feel like a hypocrite for poking at my lower belly or not-so-secretly staring at my jiggling thighs in the mirror while I’m out dancing and then coming here to wave that Love Yourself banner. Madness. Not really sure when I thought I superseded the human experience that sometimes includes a little picking at your own insecurities. Alas I am human and sometimes, though certainly not all of the time, I get disheartened at my fleshiness and it’s in those moments that I go into hyperdrive trying to lay out my body issues before someone else can. “I know! I totally need to do something about this.” Apologies come in many forms, sometimes that looks like pulling my shirt down a little lower to hide my “pooch”.
Make no mistake about it I love my curvy body, but I have moments and sometimes days that I spend in total mneh – usually after my ego sparks a compulsive need for comparison of my body against figures that are more “desirable” than mine (whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean inner-critic). I’m a thick girl with a luscious hourglass shape. Seriously, what’s not to love? I love to wear crop tops, bikinis, and daisy duke cutoffs – clothing reserved for thinner gals, but the truth is no one in my adult life has ever told me that I was too fat for something except the silent (and yet not so silent) giant “they” of society and my insecure inner-critic. Jerks.
All this wasted energy making sure my hips stay tucked in my jeans just-so (heavens forbid I get a muffin top!) and worrying that maybe I shouldn’t be wearing horizontal stripes even though I love them(!) makes it difficult to do the things I love to do. The fun gets sucked out of dancing when I’m staring down at my legs and belly to make sure they’re tamed Hiking (hell, walking and jogging in general) is horrible and sweaty in the summer months when I decide that I can’t wear shorts because the sunshine will highlight my cellulite. For what? No one really cares that much and even that little bit of time I spend worrying about any of this is best used in other avenues.
#sorrynotsorryaboutmybody
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Part II: Compliments Without the Comparisons
Comparison is an ugly thing that I can go on a days long tirade over: the people’s favorite pastime. We surround ourselves with images and ideas of how the world should be, but when we’re constantly shoulded all over then we all feel like shit. Tabloids pick apart the lives of our idols and we just lap it up because we want them to be perfect and flawed all at the same time; we’d like to uphold them as superheros, but then we feel insecure because their jobs are to emulate a certain look/lifestyle/skill/whatever that we feel we can never quite reach so instead of striving for our best we jump at any tiny bit of tragic, messy human experience we can find and put it up for the world to see.
Sometimes comparison is masked. I love to give compliments. LOVE to verbally adore people. But I’ve noticed that sometimes when I give a compliment to someone I feel (for whatever reason) necessary to lower myself in the process. Again I say, madness.
I thought I was crazy, but it just isn’t me; I listen to people around me, because I’m an avid people watcher and eavesdropper, and this is a sad trend akin to a shift of power. I’ll be honest, I don’t know why it can be difficult to raise someone up without being sheepish about my own self; I can only suppose the ego doesn’t help with its psychotic need to bring order to whom or what is the best.
What I do know is that this is complete bullshit. It’s called SHARING the love. There’s really no good reason that we can’t maintain our high vibration while lifting someone else. So go ahead and tell your friends how ravishing, intelligent, interesting, and all around awesome they are – and then do the same for yourself. In the end we’re all made up of the same stuff and the only person you can best is yourself rendering comparison moot and needlessly damaging.
Remember that the next time you find yourself apologizing for your anything OR the next time you follow-up a compliment with comparison and I’ll try to do the same.
Loving You Always,
Me
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