I interrupt your day for a message about BODIES

Wow, you look really thin. (Is this even a compliment?)
If I had your body I would... (Really?! Why not try not objectifying me and take a look in the mirror.)
You are so lucky. (Because I choose to run A LOT and eat healthy?!)
I don't know how you do it. (I choose to.)
I hate running. (That's great, I love it.)
I just don't have the time. (You think I do? I get up at the butt crack of dawn.)
I wish I could look like you. (I wish I had a million dollars. You will never look like anyone but you.)
I wish I had your strength/dedication/determination. (It is a daily effort, get to work.)
Do you need to eat something? (I eat all the time. Didn't your mama teach you manners?)
I have bad knees. (No you don't, unless you injured them recently. Running is great for knees.)
It's just too hot. (Or too cold. There will always be an excuse if you make one.)
I can't run. (Are you human? Do you have legs that work for walking? You can run...with practice.)

What is it about taking on a new life activity, particularly a healthy one, that people feel the need to excuse their own behavior or make comments about your choices? These are just some of the statements I hear quite frequently. Some seem harmless enough, but mostly they are remarks that are either intrusive or not really complimentary. Definitely not encouraging or supportive.
The body comments are the worst.
Why people think it is ok to ever speak to someone about their physical appearance is a mystery to me.
Are you a physician?
Am I seeking care from you?
No...then back off please.
Thankfully my mama taught me well enough that most days I just take it in stride.
Sometimes, though, I go home and cry about it.
Because that is what my brain does with not quite compliments and unwarranted commentary about my behavior and my body.
I mull it over.
I wonder why you said it.
Do you not like me?
Did I do something to offend you?
Did you mean it as a compliment or an insult?
The body comments always stand out. Always.
And not because I am insecure. I have no qualms with my body.
It's just that it is...

MY body.

As a woman society continues to attempt to tell me it is not really mine. My 3 year old asked about bras the other day, because mommy never runs completely shirtless like daddy. He accepted the explanation that the babas (his word from when he used to breastfeed) bounce when mommy runs, and this is uncomfortable. Then daddy went on to explain that mommy would not run without being covered up anyway, because it was a law. This completely confused my toddler, who sees human bodies as nothing more than completely normal extensions of what makes us...human. We are not shy about nudity. The body is the body. We name things correctly, we teach about body autonomy. There is no shame that is needed. Our bodies are to be cared for and we do this by moving and fueling healthfully. Male and female bodies may be different, but this is all completely ok.

But mommy's body is shameful. At least that is what I must teach my son apparently.
And eventually what my daughter will learn...from society.
Cover up, don't cover up.
Shame on you for having a woman's body.

Would you ask my husband that?
Is he too thin?
Are you concerned with whether he is eating too much or too little?
Do you tell him to cover up? Or to stop being a prude?

I know he doesn't leave the house to run without a shirt on and think about it like I do.
Wondering if someone will think that just because I am only in a sports bra I am inviting unwanted attention. Not that it is simply too hot and humid to wear so many layers...
Anticipating honks or catcalls. Or worse, some asshole yelling out his car window at me.
Because clearly I am just some sexual object.

There is a lot of talk about bodies these days, particularly women's bodies.
I wonder just how much of that talk is being heard.
Because my kids are listening, are you?

#mamastrong
#strongbodieshealthybodies



Comments

  1. Crazy? Or Menopause?July 19, 2016 at 11:46 PM

    I hear you girl. Why do people feel it's so necessary to make comments about others bodies. I'm like you, even if they give a half compliment (which is rare since I hit about 50) I always wonder if they really meant it or are they just trying to sugarcoat my lack of control around a box of cheez it's or chips ahoy cookies. Like, yes we see you are overweight but we don't want to hurt your feelings, so we are just gonna tell you a little white lie and ...what??? That's suppose to make my day. Instead of judging me for eating a little junk food once every couple of weeks, why don't they just keep their comments to themselves so I don't have to go over it and over it in my head....(were they paying me a sincere compliment or being a smart ass about my fat ass)? No one ever wants to know if you have any medical issues that may be contributing to your weight gain. Nope, they just want to assume that you are lazy and over eating. I just want to scream at them sometimes..."I have thyroid and major female hormone issues with just a very slight case of controllable diabetes. One thing I don't do is over eat." But then I remember they have just (in an insincere kind of way) paid me a compliment. So, I say thanks and go about my merry way because in reality I know, it doesn't matter what is causing my inability to lose pounds, ...people are going to think whatever they want and there isn't a damned thing I can do about it. What the hell, as long as I know my true self then the rest doesn't matter because I'm the only one who has to answer for my actions and in reality...I'm the only one that matters.
    Signed,
    You're so RAD ....and I'm just a chillin cool chick. But somehow, we manage to click. Rock on with the run...��

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My first running post

And here we are, four posts in, finally talking about running.  I suppose it would have been better to begin with a positive running experience, but I prefer to keep it real.  I never said running was a cure, or even always positive. Shit, sometimes it is really negative. If Cheryl Strayed hiked the PCT to escape her problems, I run out my door to escape mine. But you can't escape them, eventually they will land even harder right on your damn stubborn head. And then what? And then you really face them. Because they are YOUR problems. We can wake up in a fine mood and then we spill milk everywhere. Of course it's chocolate milk and of course it goes everywhere. No big deal, right? Wrong. BFD. And that's when I lost it. I lost it over spilled milk, milk that  I  spilled. It was downhill from there. My hair trigger activated, I was an angry disaster ready to blow. Crawling the walls to get out, begging to hit the pavement. Certain that I could pound the f
Read more

Unless vs. Success

Image
The power of our stories cannot be understated. Why did I choose not to begin at the beginning with this post? Easy, I couldn't 1) see all of my beginning and 2) I wasn't ready to be honest. I am now. I am more than ready. I am tired of living a facade. I want to love and share all of me, not just the pretty bits that get skimmed over anyway. All of it. The yuck, the nasty, the downright wrongness of some chapters. These are the messy middle parts. And I will not gloss over them with silly and childish attempts at humor and deflection. I am a grown woman, and I have faced all of my shit as a grown woman. Am I perfect? Fuck no. But I am real. And I am proud of that achievement. "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me." I Corinthians 13:11 ~ Dr. Jessica 5/20/2015 - Addicted to success If you came back for some autobio
Read more

What’s in a Name?

Image
  My name... I was once ashamed of my name, the weight of a childhood of hidden pain wrapped tightly in its grip. So ashamed that I allowed a stranger to strip me of it. Laid naked and vulnerable, I allowed him to take me away. He controlled who I was, he set me on the path that almost killed me. Yet death was not ready for me. And I escaped. Years would pass as I tried to wrestle with who that girl of another name was until one day I met one that I loved more than myself. That’s how I knew falling in love. Loss of self. He asked me to marry him after some time and when I said yes, this time a small voice said...claim your name. Without knowing why yet I did just that. Claimed my name. It was long and seemingly cumbersome, or so many would say. But it was mine and it felt like silky satin, flowing into my soul. A bond, not an ownership. It was all the names that were mine even if I did not know how they were supposed to be mine. Until I did. That day would not come for some 11 years. 
Read more