I’ve believed I was fat for as long as I can remember. I think I was 6 the first time I set a goal to “be able to wear a bikini” like the girls I saw in the catalogs. I cannot remember a time when I didn’t look at a picture of myself and think, “God, I look so gross.” I grew up full of self-hatred and guilt and shame about my body.
Now I feel confused when I look back at photos of myself growing up, or even photos from 5 years ago. I wasn’t fat. I was just a girl with a body. And now I’m just a woman with a body. Yes, I have fat. Maybe more than others. But that is not who I am nor is it what defines my body.
My feelings about this are so complicated. It’s quite hard to write about. I feel so angry at the culture that was designed to make me hate my body and sad for the tiny human that grew up full of shame for the body that simply made me human. And if I’m honest, I still feel a lot of shame about my body.
It is so important that we heal our relationships with our bodies as adults so that our children do not inherit body shame the way we have inherited it.
What if we all felt joy about our bodies, rather than shame? How would that change the world? We have so much work to do to begin healing.