Isn't it funny how easy it is for us to pay compliments to other people but not ourselves? I was listening to the radio the other day and someone posed this question. It was simple enough, but wow, did people have a tough time answering it. Then they asked a second question. That one was equal in its simplicity yet for that one, those answers came fast and furious. And honestly? Short of one word, the questions were identical.
So I'm sure you're wondering. . . .what, pray tell, were these questions? Let me tell you. Or better yet--let me ask you.
Quick--tell me the answers to these questions:
1. What are five things that you really, really like about your body?
2. What are five things that you really, really *don't* like about your body?
Now. If you're anything like me, that second question was easy-peasy lemon-squeezy. But that first one? Hmmm. Even if you have a great self image, it's hard to hit five without having to think hard. But doesn't it suck that it isn't even remotely difficult to point out even ten things you don't like or that you'd change or that you want to work on?
So, here's the deal. Today's huddle is going to require you to speak up--and speak up publicly. Since I already know that you can (and probably have) told someone of the things you aren't so keen on when it comes to your body, I won't ask you to do that. Instead, I need you to take a moment to answer that first question.
What are five things that you really, really like about your body?
|Jill and I were most likely affirming each other at this moment|
Now. Before you respond by telling me that you can't do this, imagine YOU as a friend to yourself. As your own BFF or girlfriend sitting across from you in a coffee shop saying that same thing. How would you affirm that friend? Because I know that surely you would. You'd quickly find twenty beautiful things about her (or him) and list them right then and there. You know you would.
Let me also challenge you to not just name those things like hair, lips, and earlobes. Push yourself to see beauty in the parts of your body that work hard for you every day. And, sure, it's fine to name those aforementioned things, but I want you to do for YOU what you'd do for a friend. Tell YOU what you'd tell her. Or him. Or them. See it. Find it. And then tell it.
My point is that we need to be friends to ourselves. Like really, really good friends. One day I was feeling particularly crummy about a few things and that song "Say Something, I'm Giving Up on You" came on the radio. And for whatever reason, that day I heard it as me talking to me. Me saying that I need to chuck myself under my chin and look myself in the eye to say, "You're really kind of amazing, actually."
Maaaaan, I wish I had time to talk to somebody about how it doesn't matter what somebody ELSE is telling you about you if YOU don't believe it yourself. Yeah, I know that "you yourself" thing was kind of redundant--sort of like this dude I knew who always used to preface things by saying "me, myself, personally. . . . " Ha. The take home message is that everyone can be saying something about you--but if your opinion differs from it, what difference does it make? That goes for the good and the bad, man. Or like that other songwriter said, "No one can tell you what you know." Mmmm hmmm. Wish I could talk to somebody about all that, but I don't even have time.
So tell me. What do you know about you? What do you really, really like about your BODY? No, not your personality or your spirit--your BODY. Come on. Say something. . . I'm giving up on you, man.
Alright. Deep breath. Here goes. And like the radio personality said, "Don't overthink it. Just spit it out."
What are five things that I really, really like about my body?
I like my nose. It's kind of biggish, actually but it's such a . . . well. . .huge part of me and my face. It's super distinct, covered with freckles like JoLai's, and is the thing that I think makes me look like my dad. It's very "Draper" that nose. Which connects me to them.
I like how my legs look in skirts and high heels. I feel feminine and beautiful when I put on a heel of three inches or more. I like how my husband looks at me when I do and how strong and agile I feel when I walk across a floor in them.
I like my arms, including my wrists and hands. This took a while for me to embrace. Yes, I know that my wrists are skinny and that my triceps are a far cry from Mrs. Obama's. But over time, I've come to like that my wrists are kind of delicate. My hands are veiny like my mother's and my grandmother's. Sure, I'll never be a hand model (unless it's an old lady hands model) but so what. My hands are their hands. Which makes me feel like we are one whenever I look at them. My upper arms tone up pretty well when I exercise which I like.
I really like how my back looks in a backless dress. It looks strong. And I can see that, even with my narrow shoulders and generally small build up top, all that running and also those occasional lat pulls and dead rows show there before anywhere else. I like that.
A friend took a photo of me dancing at an outdoor concert last weekend. I was in a halter dress my hands were in the air waving to the music. And when I looked at that candid snapshot, I said, "Hmmm. I like the way my back looks on this picture."
And I was proud of myself because I said it out loud to my friend. About myself.
I like my. . .errr. . . seat cushion. I can't say I had a full appreciation for it before marrying the BHE. He's definitely in cahoots with Sir Mix-a-Lot and is far less concerned about high letter alphabet brassieres. In jeans, in skirts, in dresses, I like it. In pajamas, too. I'm working on liking it in swimsuits but it's funny . . .Harry always comments (positively) whenever I walk by him in a swimsuit. And it ain't my delicate wrists he's talking about. Ha.
Okay. There's my five. Now it's your turn.
You know? Affirming my body in this way just made me keep thinking of things I like about the one I have. Just like dogging yourself (and others) can become a habit that rolls off of your tongue without you even thinking about it, loving yourself can be the same way. I was surprised to see that I could think of five more things I liked once I allowed myself. I think I'll do this with my boys tonight, too.
Alright. Delurk and give me five. Five things that you really, really like about YOUR BODY. Say something. . . . before you give up on you.
Happy Thursday, beautiful ones.
Now playing on my mental iPod. . . . .as sung to myself.
. . .and Sir Mix-a-Lot. . .as sung by the BHE. Ha. Go on and dance. You know you want to because even as misogynistic as this song is, it's impossible to not shake your donk to it. Ha ha ha. Now pardon me. . . . .