Lately, it has become very common to see articles on social media talking about Taylor Swift and her body: whether someone said she looked pregnant, whether someone commented that she starves herself, or the most recent one, where someone questioned Travis Kelce’s sanity for dating someone with "flat butt." The first thing I think is: "what a waste of time," "what garbage social media has become." Then, I feel anger and ask myself: "Why do these people believe they have the authority to comment on Taylor Swift's body? And on the body of every woman in the world?" I imagine these people as characters from the show My 600-Pound Life, who are so trapped in their own self-hatred that they can't help but project that hate onto others. (This is not personal against those who suffer from obesity; I know it is a mental illness as serious as any other addiction). What I mean is that those who judge others are simply reflecting their own judgments. And it is much easier to do it from behind the invisibility of a screen, attacking someone whose life is under the spotlight of a vast portion of the world’s population.
So, the anger quickly passes because I have learned —and managed, with great satisfaction— not to give importance to other people's opinions about what I do, what I say, what I think, and, of course, how I look.
Where I still have room for improvement, though I’ve considerably improved, is in not judging myself: not judging what I do, what I say, what I think, what I feel, and especially not how I look. Because my appearance is, in reality, a small part of who I am, of my essence.
Recently, I was reading a book about embodiment, and it said something that struck me: "We want our bodies to look a certain way, to weigh X number of kilos, to measure X number of centimeters, to be X size, and to look 20 years younger, but we are constantly judging, attacking, and cursing it." After reading that, I started thinking… and it hit me just how wrong we are as a society: we value the superficial more, we praise the external as if it were the only thing that exists, and we measure people’s worth by how they look. We judge without restraint or awareness, everyone and everything: known and unknown, close and distant. But, above all, we judge ourselves, mercilessly and without compassion, for not fitting into an absurd and, in many cases, unhealthy standard, set by a society that doesn't even look like that.
What we cause with these judgments, not to mention the devastating emotional effects, is an even greater disconnection from our bodies. That body, which is our home, our refuge. The vehicle that allows us to live and navigate this Earth. The host that allows us to experience this world. The medium by which we can witness the beauty of a sunrise, savor a delicious cake, hear a song that makes us dance, or travel back in time through familiar scents. The sensation of rejuvenation when we immerse ourselves in the cold water of a cenote or feel the healing from the salty sea. Feeling a touch, hugging a child with unconditional love, or experiencing the ultimate pleasure of an orgasm, capable of creating life.
Our body, a temple, an ally, deserving of respect, admiration, praise, care, and gratitude. And yet, we’ve learned from a young age to disconnect from it.
Surely, more than one of you, my dear readers, was forced to eat “at mealtime” even though you weren’t hungry, or to “finish your plate” even though you were already full. Or were made to eat “because there are children starving in Africa.” Surely, too, many of you were forced to wear a sweater “because it’s cold,” or to sleep “because you’re tired.” And this is how, from a young age, we learn to disconnect from our body, to annul the messages and desires it gives us, because our parents or grandparents knew better than us what we needed at that moment.
Little by little, we started to ignore the innate wisdom of our body and severed that bond with it.
And at the same time, we demand that our body does what we want: we force it to fit into a mold. We give it alcohol, cigarettes, or junk food. We exhaust it with excessive exercise or atrophy it sitting on a couch. We pack it into trendy clothes, force it to walk in high heels that deform our feet. But have you ever asked your body if it wants all of that? If it likes the cigarette smoke, the excessive alcohol, the cold because you didn’t want to cover your figure?
I hadn’t, never. Until now.
Now, I have started to consider my body for everything that concerns it —crazy, right?— and, suddenly, it has become so much easier for me to eat and exercise healthily, dress without having to change three times, and stop drinking alcohol. Everything flows.
When I lived trying to fit into a socially agreed-upon image of how women should look, I had constant sugar cravings, I couldn’t be at a social event without drinking, I subjected myself to exhausting exercise classes, and dressing was an endless judgment.
I even started repeating those patterns with my daughter, forcing a sweater on her when she said she wasn’t cold, or insisting she eat.
The results of this change have been incredible. I see that my body is less inflamed, I have more energy, my metabolism is faster, and, above all, my sensations are more real and authentic. It feels like I’ve reconnected with an old friend I hadn’t seen in 35 years, and when we met again, it was as if no time had passed. It feels that natural.
Now, every morning, I talk to my body. Before doing anything, I express my immense gratitude. I respect it, I listen to it, I celebrate it, I honor it. And in return, it does what I ask, from a place of union and mutual respect.
I highly recommend this. Reconnect with your body, give it the place it deserves, honor it, admire it, thank it, celebrate it, cherish it, love it. And, as always, if you want, tell me how it goes.
With love,
Linda
PS. Remember that sharing is caring, so please, if you thought of someone while reading this article and think they could benefit from it, share it! 🙏🏻
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