No Body Cares

 

   That’s a picture of me – eating what I hope is a bucket of ice cream and not sour cream, but who knows, I was a freak of nature who was allergic to colored foods – and my sister as children. Remember when you were a kid and your body was just a thing that held your skeleton so you could run, jump, talk and laugh? I miss that blissful ignorance so much that I have to look at photos to remember it ever existed.

That’s a picture of me – eating what I hope is a bucket of ice cream and not sour cream, but who knows, I was a freak of nature who was allergic to colored foods – and my sister as children. Remember when you were a kid and your body was just a thing that held your skeleton so you could run, jump, talk and laugh? I miss that blissful ignorance so much that I have to look at photos to remember it ever existed.

No Body Cares

This is a post about my body and how I don't care about it as much anymore.
So let's just all take a moment to bask in how clever the name of this post is…that being said, it’s not that I have NO body cares; I guess you could say I have SOME body cares, and usually some is better than none.

This isn't the kind of post where I'm going to bash all the people who compete, or love running, or meal prep. Because one, I love all those things too and two, I live and let live - you do you…or a different version of you named Caitlyn. I mean, whatever works.

So what do I mean by no body cares?
I just mean I've stopped dedicating so much energy to hating on/loving on/perfecting upon, and overall focusing on, my body. This wasn't something I intended to do...and this all might very well change the second the summer sun (finally) rears it's beautiful head and shows off that cellulite dimple on my thigh. But for now, I don't really care that much.

I know what you're thinking, "OMG Stephany! No! Don't let yourself go!!"...I'm not. I lost a healthy amount of weight over a year ago and I've successfully maintained that weight for over a year. I still work out 3-5 times a week and, if I have the amenities, I even meal prep. I try to stay away from simple carbs, sugar, and dairy on the weekdays because those items don't make me physically feel good. 

So it sounds like I do care. And I do care about my body in a sense of health, and if it functions properly, and if I pretty much like how it looks. But, right now, I'm not nit-picking beyond that. 

You know that skinny friend who always rags on her body and you can't listen to her for a second longer or you're going to snap her stick thin arm in half (because you literally could)? That's what I started to see my inner voice as. And I got to the point where I was annoyed.

Am I stick thin? No.
Have I ever been? No.
Will I ever be? No.
But am I overweight? Nope.
Does anyone else notice the body "flaws" I claim to have? Nope.
Do I have any health issues that should cause concern? Nope.
Does my body function as it should? Yes.
Do I meet the minimum requirement of what men typically like in a women's body? Yes.
Does any of this even matter in the grand scheme of things? Nope.
So shut up already, self. NO BODY CARES.

Believe me, my inner-self still tries to get at me and tell me I'm not good enough and I'm over here like, “hey yeah, I hear ya, things aren't as awesome as they could be in the abs department…but did you hear what I accomplished at work today?”

Or: “Okay, my delts aren't as rocking as Cameron Diaz's...however, did you know my friend just got engaged and it’s her day not mine?”

And: “You're right, my thighs do touch sometimes, but did you know that ISIS is beheading people for their religious beliefs?”

A Million Billion Trillion Things
I still have a passion and love for health and fitness. If you know me at all you know I love working out and a quest bar over a real cookie any day. But I'm just finding the older I get the less I see my body in parts. I'm tired of saying "my triceps/glutes/thighs need work". No. They don't need work. I am a body of work and at work. There are a million billion trillion things going right about my body. Why would I spit in the face of its creator and complain? 

The sum of the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
This has become a mantra of sorts for me: I am whole, I am healthy, I am complete just as I am. I accept my body for how it is in any given moment of any given day. 

I have more to offer to the world than a bundle of flesh and bones.
This thing I've been obsessing over is just a temporary shell given to my soul so that I might live out what God has called me to do. It is a high end, luxury model of a machine and I've learned to take care of it enough to keep it running smoothly. So I'm choosing to put my efforts and focus on building the inside: my thoughts, my talents, my mind, and my heart so that I can serve my purpose to the best of my ability. 

I truly think EVERY body is a miracle. I see so much beauty in every body I encounter. Let's stop scrutinizing our miracles and say it all together: "NO BODY CARES."