We don’t have a full-length mirror at home…mostly because a) my youngest is a total Narcissus and would be frozen forever, and b) I hate looking at my body because…
(There are several reasons for this, like heredity, illness, medications, a Haribo addiction, but none of them change the fact that I. Am. Fat.)
Anyway, before this gets too negative, back to the mirror.
Hubs and I were staying in a Travelodge overnight (the in-laws had the spawns! Frabjous day!) and it of course has not only a room-wide, harshly-lit mirror in the bathroom, but a full-length mirror in the bedroom. Eeek.
But this morning, instead of avoiding the mirror, and after criticising myself harshly after my shower (“too fat”, “huge arse”, “look at those thighs”) I made a conscious decision to stand before the full-length mirror and praise myself. (Hubs was off running round Ipswich Marina in the rain…)
And you know what? Yes, I am medically obese. Yes, I could do with losing some weight for the good of my health, if no other reason. Yes, in the eyes of society my body isn’t fashionable, attractive or acceptable.
I am valid.
I have worth.
My body is a miracle of nature (yours is too, y’know).
It’s also a miracle of science (thank you, pain relief and brain meds!).
And although my body isn’t perhaps all I’d want it to be, it’s mine, and I’m going to learn to love it. No more hiding, no more shame, no more hating.
This is me.