We put a lot of blame on our bodies. Yesterday my scrawny ass was sitting on the subway and I felt my whole stomach jiggle. It was sort of an odd sensation. Usually when I’m on the train I’m so immersed in Next to Normal or American Idiot that I barely notice when the train sways, let alone when parts of my body do something that should make me feel unattractive.
Last week someone close to me took a tumble or four. He’s been sick for a long time and it’s getting increasingly difficult for him to balance.
And it made me realize how small that jiggle is. I can walk to the bathroom by myself. I leave the house. My body works.
And I’m going to shame it, hurt it, target pieces of it because of a little jiggle? Because it does what it has to do to keep me healthy? How thankless can I be? How selfish?
I told this to my best friend and she told me that she was looking through a book and found some exercises to get into the head of someone who is differently abled. In the book were a series of exercises like: Set the table using only one arm. Caress your lover but your fingers are paralyzed so they’re straight and stiff. Think about these exercises. Think about how lucky you already are to be in a body that works even if it doesn’t look like Claudia Schiffers.
I feel really lucky. And when you’re feeling lucky there is less energy to spare on feeling body-shamey.