A Letter To My Body

Dear Body,

I have been thinking about you a lot lately. I feel like there is some distance between us. I miss how close we used to be. You've been such a loyal friend to me and I realize I haven't been there for you lately. This doesn't sit right in my heart. I owe you an apology. That's why I am writing you this letter. There are some things I need to express to you. I hope you will hear me out. I know I have let you down. You have every reason to be upset with me. I want to heal our relationship and I am ready to own my part in the rift.

I'm sorry I have abandoned you. I have neglected your needs. You've always shown up for me. You've had my back, but when you needed me most, I checked out. I haven't been a very good listener. I have monopolized the conversation and been a bit of a bully, forcing you to put up with shit that no friend should ever have to tolerate. I know that when I have been hurt, it is healing to have my pain acknowledged. I am aware of the harm I have caused you and I want to make amends by owning up to the ways I have neglected our friendship.

• I have stayed up into the wee hours of the night watching the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson. I have pittered around the house tending to things that could easily be put off till tomorrow while you begged me for the respite of a warm bed and a soft pillow to rest your head upon. All you wanted was to let the tension of the day melt away as you slipped off to slumber. I have denied you this need.

• I have kept you cooped up inside, chained to the computer. These four walls have been creeping in around you. The computer has become your leash, tethering you in from taking fresh air into your lungs, feeling the warm breeze caress your face, the sunshine kissing your skin, the cool, green grass tickling your bare feet. You have been hungry for these things and I have served you an empty plate.

• You have been in pain. You have asked me for help, knowing my healing gifts. I have denied you the benefit of these gifts, instead bestowing them freely upon others. I have put the needs of others... some strangers to me... above those of my best friend.

• I see you come alive when you dance. Your passion... your inspiration... seeps through every pore of your being when immersed in that ecstatic movement. Dance is your lifeblood. Your connection to your creative power. Without dance, your soul becomes withered and small when your birthright is to live large in this world. I know you struggle to move at your current size. I have seen you labor... the gasping for air, the muscle weakness, the difficulty in letting yourself soar when you feel anchored to the ground with limitation. You need more tangible support from me so you can continue to enjoy the dance you love. I am aware you need physical therapy after dance class in order to recover. You need to be strengthened so you have a solid foundation to support your art. You need the release of yoga so the tightness in your muscles can melt away, giving you more freedom and ease of movement. You need the time and space to consistently practice so you can adapt to the physical demand that is being placed on you and evolve as an artist. I am aware of all of these needs and I have dropped the ball. You have suffered as a direct result of my lack of response. You have been sidelined by repeated injury and have been denied the dance that is like air for your soul to breathe.

• I have silenced your hunger. I know how important it is for you to have breakfast each day. When you are denied your morning meal, it lays out the welcome mat for ED to pay a visit. I am aware of this and have betrayed you by leaving you vulnerable to ED and his shenanigans. I have heard your pleas of hunger and drowned them out with copious amounts of coffee. I have distracted myself from listening to you, putting off addressing your needs until completing inconsequential tasks I have deemed more worthy of my attention. These tasks will always be there, ready for me to pick up where I left off later. If I don't take care of you, I am not guaranteed such grace. I need you. Without you, there is no me. It is time I moved your needs to the top of the list.

• I have been a slave to the grind. I have pilfered your energy by burning the candle at both ends. I have worked you into the ground. I have become a devotee to the dogma of the human doer. I have undervalued the experience of the human being. You have expressed your discontent in symbols... cricked neck, aching back, cluster migraines, stress, emotional strain, apathy, depression... a sign language articulating your need for downtime. I have pushed you to your limit... far beyond your means.  I do not blame you for being angry with me. You are inflamed... incensed. You have raged. You have screamed. I have ignored you when all you wanted was to be heard.

• You are sacred and long to be honored. You wish to be pampered and lavished with love. You crave foot rubs, sensual touch, homespun facials, massages with luscious aromatherapy oils, manis and pedis. You relish being adorned in queenly finery... silky fabrics, precious baubles as rare and priceless as you, a trace of Egyptian Goddess perfume blessing your belly, the small of your back, your thighs. These things do not make the woman, but they do rouse a purr. It is treating you as my altar with each act an offering to honor, cherish, adore. It is a reverent bow to the sacred within.

• For many moons you have been encouraging me to adopt a vegetarian approach. You have shown me how supported you feel from the inside, out on this kind path. I didn't completely trust you. I wasn't all in. Even though you thanked me when I explored a whole foods vegetarian lifestyle with radiant energy,  glowing skin, healed digestion, clarity and calm, I repaid your gratitude with questioning. I doubted you when you have always been honest with me. I continued to sporadically force feed you foods that made you howl with discomfort. You rebelled and rightfully so. I asked you to lead me to health and when you did, I bit the hand that feeds me. 

Please forgive me for ignoring you, mistreating you, refusing you, dishonoring you, and taking your needs to be insignificant. You deserve so much better than this. Remember when I was a little girl? You and me... we sure had a lot of fun, didn't we? We've had some great times together...

Splashing through the creek chasing polliwogs...

Drinking in the sweet nectar of honeysuckle on lazy summer days...

Lying in the field gazing at a sea of clear blue sky with fluffy cotton candy clouds sailing by like ships in route to the land of daydreams...

We used to belly laugh, dance, twirl, leap, run, nap, create, imagine, dream, explore, discover. We still can. We can make new memories. Let's get back to the way we used to be before all the naysayers, dream crushers, and fear told us it wasn't OK to simply be. I know you have been ready for a long time. I've arrived a bit late to the party. I'm here now and I promise to never leave your side again. 

Let's pinky swear on it.

Barbie... American Icon or Harbinger of Body-Image Issues?

Ever since Mattel first introduced Barbie to America on March 9th, 1959 she has been a permanent fixture in pop culture. Most women can recall memories of having Barbie as a childhood playmate. To this day, the doll continues to be as popular as ever. Most little girls have a Barbie in their toy chest. In fact, Mattel likes to boast that three Barbie dolls are sold every second. However, despite Barbie's popularity, the marketing of this doll to young girls has fallen under much scrutiny and for good reason. Barbie promotes a body image that is a far cry from healthy. In fact, there is great debate that the doll's fantasy proportions encourage body distortion and give rise to subsequent eating disorder behavior amongst young girls.

In 1963 an apparel collection, "Barbie Baby-Sits" was launched. The outfit came with accessories, one of which was a book titled, "How to Lose Weight". The book's advice... "Don't eat". This same book accessory was featured in 1965 in the apparel collection, "Slumber Party" complete with pink bathroom scale set permanently at 110 lbs. Barbie's real-life dimensions are far from realistic. Here are some keepin' it real Barbie facts:

• If Barbie was an actual woman her measurements would be completely unattainable. At 5'9" her bust would measure 39", her waist would be a virtually non-existent 18", and her hip measurement would come in at 33". She would wear a size 3 shoe.
• Barbie views herself as a 'full-figured' woman at a weight of 110 lbs. In reality, at 110 lbs. Barbie is 35 lbs. underweight according to her height which puts her health in a precarious position.
• Barbie would register a mere 16.24 BMI which would easily fit the criteria to classify her as anorexic. Menstruation would be nothing more than a faint memory for Barbie. Her body could simply not support this natural hormonal process.
• Barbie's proportions are so unrealistic that as a real-life woman she'd have to walk around on all fours like a dog. She wouldn't be able to stand up on her own two feet.

In light of this information it makes it all the more disturbing that famous shoe designer Christian Louboutin decided to launch a 50 year anniversary edition of Barbie with a little nip-tuck. According to the designer, Barbie's lower legs were still a little too thick for his liking. He felt her ankles needed to be much slimmer and her foot more curved to show off the shoe collection he designed for the icon. His decision was met with both outrage and controversy. In his defense, Louboutin explained that it was a fashion decision based on showcasing his work. While he didn't think Barbie's original ankles were fat, he did feel that slimmer ankles would make his shoes look better. When Mattel teams up with the fashion industry you have the perfect recipe for disaster.

When are we going to demand more consciousness in advertising? When will enough be enough? I'm not a mother, but if I was, I certainly would not want my little girl playing with Barbie. She is a bad influence. I see Barbie as a symbol of the sickness that has grasped our culture. A culture that values thinness above all else. A culture that objectifies women and discourages diversity in favor of homogenization. Let's not forget that although Mattel has launched both African American and Latin American versions of the doll Stateside they continue to have distinctly Caucasian features. Barbie has one Asian friend named Kira that is hard to find in the United States because she is not heavily marketed like the other versions of the doll. When toy manufacturers target their advertising campaigns to lure in little girls ages 3-12 with messages so potentially damaging and we sit idly by twiddling our thumbs, we have a problem. Most girls own a Barbie by the age of 3. I encourage all parents to think about the message Barbie is 'whispering' in their daughter's ear. Against the backdrop of this unrealistic image, how is your little girl supposed to feel about her own body? What reflection will she see when she looks in the mirror?

We have the ability to promote an empowering message. A message that embraces diversity and encourages healthy body image. Our power to effect change lies in how we spend our consumer dollars. Every time we go to the store and make a purchase we cast a vote. Suppliers meet the demand. Corporations don't hold the power. That's an illusion. The people hold the power and we have the ability to set the precedence if we stop buying into marketing ploys and begin to put our money where our mouth is. It's time we become conscious consumers and take financial responsibility to ensure that our dollars support businesses in line with our values.

When I think back I believe even as a child I knew that Barbie was a little off. There was something I didn't like about that girl. All my Barbie's suffered the same fate. They eventually made it to the hairdresser only to have their long silky locks hacked away into mohawks. Soon their faces would adorn permanent marker mustaches and other unflattering 'enhancements'. Then the inevitable day would come when Barbie's fate was sealed. Her demise was seen in a heap of body parts... a head here... a bendable leg there... the 'perfect' parts that once assembled the 'perfect' body, now laid in a 'perfect' pile upon the floor. Mom never wanted me to destroy my toys but something felt so damn rewarding about dismantling that image.

Maybe it is time we collectively dethroned Barbie from her iconic status and dismantled the one-note beauty ideal she has come to represent. Think of what a different world it would be if beauty was celebrated in all shapes, sizes and ethnicities. We can have that world if we all do our part to raise awareness and use our voices to educate and empower. Use your voice to pass it on today.

Beyond the Looking Glass... Reflections on a Year without Reflection

I'm about to have my 37th birthday in just under a couple of weeks. I have spent the past three years healing my body image issues... coming to a place of peace and acceptance with myself. Anyone who has been through an in-depth healing process will tell you that it is a spiral path. As much as you believe your journey is complete, you always discover that there is another loop of growth to travel.

Lately, my social circle has been obsessed with body talk. Everyone around me is trying to lose weight, complaining about how fat they are, making judgmental comments about other women's bodies. The energy is really bringing me down. I wish I could make these women understand that it is not a food issue. It is not a weight issue. It is a self-care issue. I wish they could see what I see... that our worth is not held in the container of our physical appearance. The pursuit of the societal definition of perfection robs us of our joy and sense of belonging. When we are laying on our death bed the last thing we are going to be worried about is that piece of devil's food cake we devoured or the silly size of our jeans. Yet, we squander so much of our life energy fretting over something so trite and irrelevant.

This body talk is toxic. It can really bring a girl down, man. Lately, I've noticed it has made me more aware of my own silhouette... its fleshy curves and soft padding. How could I not be impacted in this way? Women have approached me with unwarranted comments about my body, blurring the boundary lines of my personal space. They wonder how much weight I have lost, what I plan on doing to release some more, how I'm eating... blah, blah, blah! Can you tell I am so over this dribble?! With everything going on in the world today aren't there more important issues at stake? Why are people so closed to meaningful dialogue? Why are we so content to skim the surface instead of scratching the veneer to see the depth of what lies within?

I recently experienced this body fixation at a gathering. It was a healing circle for my friend who has been diagnosed with cancer. We were raising such beautiful energy. We were gathered in numbers and strength in a spirit of love. The power of that intention was palpable. Then it seeped in... like a disease... infecting and consuming every healing thought in its path. Body talk.

I heard one woman greet an old friend with, "Wow... look at you! I remember when you were so fat!" Another woman lamented that she had lost 15 lbs. and was now too skinny as her friend quipped under her breath, "anorexic". Another lady offered up a few meager pieces of chocolate to the group with the disclaimer, "Sorry, that's all I have left. I'm trying to get it out of the house. I'm going to be 'good' come Monday." On and on it went. This woman talking about her cleanse and how she had piously abstained from a laundry list of foods. That woman pinching at the roll cascading over her waistband. It was a ceaseless dietribe drowning out prayers of healing and heartfelt intention. How can healing energy co-exist in such a place of division and rejection? My insides were screaming, "Stop bringing this hateful energy into this sacred space!"

Here I was, amidst a gallery of goddesses. Each one beautiful and complete in their many forms. Every woman present possessed an exquisiteness that runs through their lifeblood, having no connection to that little number on the clothing tag of their dress. Somehow this truth escaped their consciousness in the fog of vanity. These women who felt so woeful about their bodies are lithe forms next to this thick mama who has a solid 100 lbs. on each of them. To hear them reject themselves in this way made me wonder what they see when they look at me. Do they even see me at all? Or does my body size get in the way?

I am the largest woman in the room. I am that white elephant that gives rise to discomfort. People notice my difference, but pretend my plus-size has escaped their attention. Instead, they talk around me as if I am none the wiser. It's almost as if my presence compels women to rebuke all things fat lest my obesity rub off on them. The experience had a powerful effect on me, prompting me to respond in a rather radical, unconventional way.

I have been feeling a great pull to turn within... deflecting my attention from the superficial, to reflect on my pure essence. I long to unmask the woman I am behind the veil of social guises, appearances, and pleasantries. My soul is singing Siren songs beckoning me to dive deep and explore the ocean of my inner being. What mysteries await me in its murky depths? My draw is not to the physical, but the intangible. I have surrendered concern about whether or not I am releasing weight, or if I ever will for that matter. My soul's desire is to feel good, celebrate the gift of life, take loving care of my entire being, and be appreciative of this earth suit I get to experience this wondrous world in. Lately, I have heard the call... "Let go... surrender... release expectation and discover the true meaning of life. It is here you will find the balance once liberated from the shackles of design. Embrace the formless and sink into serendipity."

I am answering the call by spending the next year of my life unencumbered by mirrors. A year without reflection to deepen my reflection. A journey of self-discovery to see what lies beyond the looking glass.

My bathroom mirror has been covered by a sign bearing a sunny smiley face exclaiming, "You are gorgeous!" The mirror in the garage that I used to work out in front of is being dismantled. I want to sense and feel my body instead of defining myself according to labels of beauty seen in a reflection. I have recently caught myself on the way to the shower, scanning my profile in the mirror, noting how far my tummy sticks out. I've witnessed the reemergence of body consciousness. I'm nipping it in the bud... pulling it out of the garden of my soul like so many weeds. I will not let its intrusion over-grow and invasively consume the fresh growth I have nurtured and lovingly tended to.

Maybe I sound a little kooky, a bit eccentric, or a tad extreme. I don't know what it will be like to live life without mirrors. Will my perception of self shift without having my reflection to define me? How will my identity morph as I base my experience of myself on what I feel, rather than what I see? Will I be able to connect more deeply with the true source of my being? Will I find the bounty of my mojo there waiting for me... a treasure chest overflowing with the promise of a juicy life bursting with ripeness? I don't know, but it seems an intriguing experiment. They say that curiosity killed the cat, but this feline knows that satisfaction is what brought it back. This kitten is ready to get her purr on. The wild unbridled woman in me can't help but go there and challenge the confines of normalcy.

And so I pose this question to you dear friends...

What do you think lies beyond the looking glass?