If you’re on Twitter, you’ve probably seen the “Exposed” movement going around. Women (and men) are making blog posts celebrating their bodies…many are even posting pictures of themselves in just a bra and underwear (well, just underwear for the men). And they are celebrating what is amazing or special about themselves.
There will be no picture here. I wrestled with the idea of doing one, but I’m not ready. But I decided that it shouldn’t keep me from celebrating.
I’d like to say that this is easy for me. I’d *like* to say that. Truth be told, I hate my body. I want to accept it for what it is, but that’s very hard. I have fought it my entire life – I started being the fat kid in 2nd grade, and just continued to grow into the fat woman I am today. I went on my first diet in 3rd or 4th grade (it wasn’t called a diet, and it was actually a really good program, which made the parents come in and learn everything us kids were learning). I’ve been on a diet off and on for many of the past 30 years. (I took a hiatus during the ’90s, because I noticed that I kept pinning my self-worth to the scale. I made the wise decision to try to get to like myself without being on a diet – I think it helped, at least helped me to like myself even if I didn’t like my body.)
I feel like my body is the enemy…but that’s not what this post is about. I want to celebrate.
I have killer calves – they are huge, but mostly all muscle. Why? Because I bike. A lot. In the past 7 months, I have pedaled 500 miles on my bike. Another 500 miles on the stationary bike. I did a 50-mile ride in September, and a 30-mile ride filled with hills.
I have a pretty spectacular brain…I’m not too shy to say that. I use it to share the mysteries of the Universe with school teachers and their students. I have studied black holes at the centers of galaxies.
I have hands that make some cool crafts. Most recently I preserve my memories in scrapbooks. I have sewn numerous clothes, blanket bears, and costumes, weaved a couple beautiful baskets, and cross-stitched some spectacular birth announcements.
I have ears that listen. They hear jokes and laughter, but also listen to hurt and pain. They are always available for anyone who needs a sympathetic listener.
I have arms that are good for hugging – hugging hubbies, kitties and puppies alike (and nieces when I get a chance!)