It’s anything but easy to love yourself when the only feeling you have towards yourself is anything but love. I wouldn’t call it hate, rather an ongoing disappointment and resentment towards yourself. It doesn’t help that we are constantly fed through every single media subtle indicator that the body we have is not perfect, yet. If we follow all of these tips we too will be able to have “that” body. They sell false expectations to achieve a body that is not ours, and we fall into the trap like an ant after its first lick of honey.
It becomes a daily occurrence, to stare at your- self in the mirror and pick and point what shouldn’t be there, what we would like to cut and paste in another part of our body. If my legs weren’t so big, I would be so prettier. If my chest didn’t look like one of an eight year old, then I would be pretty. It’s gruesome, the thoughts that go through our minds when we see our reflection. And the worst truth that is hard to comprehend, is that so many of us end up obsessing over the most superficial aspect of ourselves that we end up in hospital beds, or on bathroom floors all be- cause, realistically, what are you if you are not pre- tty? What are you if not beautiful?
Nothing.
Of course that is not true. You have your smarts, your humor and your soul. You have your kindness and your dedication, you have it all, but somehow, we don’t end up in the situations we do because of our bodies if we aren’t fun- 39 ny. We just accept it, and some will become more quiet and serious and others will continue to make crude and awkward jokes that make them happy.
Because isn’t that what we should aim for? Happiness? So how come I can’t just accept that my body is not going to have a twenty-five inch waist and just be thankful that my body lets me walk in the woods in an autumn afternoon or swim in the first sun rays of a summer day?
If only I could know.
Núria Coyne