Learning to love my body is unlike anything I've ever done before. And honestly any metaphor I can come up with makes it seem absolutely awful. Right now, I feel like trying to love my body is like trying to love your old relative who needs your help to use the bathroom and sometimes dribbles food on her sweater, and is also a racist. Because, the truth is, I'm kind of mad at my body, and sometimes I think it's a dysfunctional jerk.
I'm mad at my saggy tummy and floppy breasts. I'm mad that I can't bend my knees all the way, that high heels hurt my weak ankle, that my skin is always itchy and dry and cracked, that I'm so often uncomfortable in my own skin.
I'm mad that clothes I like don't look the way I want them to look on my body. And I'm trying to resolve the idea of self-love with aesthetics — something I was talking to a friend about a while back. Is it self-love or self-hatred to want to look a certain way? How do we reconcile accepting our bodies while making aesthetic choices about the way we want to appear? If I favor outfits that make my waist look smaller, am I really accepting my body the way it is?
I can't figure any of this stuff out — not yet, anyway. But I'm working on it, and I'm starting small. If I'm not ready to love my body the way it is, I can at least not hate it. I can accept it. I can let it be what it is. And if anyone has any tips about body positivity — please share!
Entire outfit thrifted (sweater seen here)
Total cost to me: About $6