Roe versus Wade gave women the right to choose, but I wasn't sure what. The Watergate committee hearings droned on every night on television, so I couldn't watch my shows. And the first POWs were released from Vietnam, which meant some of the girls in my class could take off the MIA bracelets they wore.
But for me, 1973 was the year I learned that, while everyone else had four food groups, I only had two. The foods I should eat and the foods I shouldn't.
It was the year I first heard the word "calories".
It was the year my mother warned of "the chubby store", a place I would have to shop if I didn't lose weight.
It was the year it was explained to me that my sister could have dessert because she had a "metabolism" and I didn't.
It was the year I figured out things went much better if I sucked in my stomach when my mother was near.
It was the year I started pinching myself, trying to twist flesh off like pieces of modeling clay.
It was the year my mother began watching me eat, asking, "Are you really hungry?" and then pursing her lips if I said, "Yes".
It was the year food became more important to me than it ever had. I wanted it. I hated it.
It was the year my body became my shame, a year that lasted well over three decades.
Posts
This is so powerful...saying more would not do it justice. For 20 years I worked with women and men helping address the effects of gender stereotyping...were I still doing that I'd be asking permission to share your heartfelt words; they breathe the weight of reality for so many women...and point to a not so easy path out. It's no wonder the root of "courage" is heart. If this is part of your focusing on "me," you appear to be on the right track.
ReplyDeleteCameron: It's possible that you've intimidated an answer right out of me. But yes, I do plan to write more about "me", whatever that ends up meaning. But definitely about my relationship with my body, my attempt to forcibly find beauty in it through the distance and gentle "objectivity" of photos.
ReplyDeleteWell, my object was not to intimidate you, but I know you meant that in a positive way, DDD. I have known many women who have struggled with this on many different levels. It has become quite apparent that you are coming to terms...getting comfortable with that discomfort that has been the fabric of your life for so long. I have learned that I, or anyone, could tell you how lovely you are with the deepest sincerity, but it only becomes credible when you are able to embrace yourself...both mind and body. And, btw, both are incredibly attractive.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing, DDD. I find that one of the most shameful aspects of body-shame isn't the body... it's the shame I feel in being educated, thoughtful, and progressively-minded enough to know that I shouldn't feel ashamed. I shouldn't, but I do.
ReplyDeleteD: Oh my god. You're right. My enlightened, fuck-you feminist is mortified by my body shame. It's why I have to keep taking -- and posting -- photo after photo of my naked or near naked body. To force myself to find and admit to its beauty. I cringed even typing that. Very interesting point you bring up. Much more intriguing than my own....
ReplyDeleteThis is what blogging is all about, working through things like this. I have my own body issues brought about by popular culture and those close to me and you know what? in the end you have to be comfortable in your own skin and not let others dictate what that skin should be (beyond issues of health).
ReplyDelete~Kazi xxx