I’ve been on a path of self-discovery for a few years now, and yet, it is only today that a very basic and obvious truth about myself has come to my awareness: my relationship to my own body is an absolute mess.
I have learned to love myself, but somehow I’ve managed to do so without loving my body; how is that even possible? I’ve realized that I inhabit my body just as I would a rented apartment, one that I appreciate for its convenience, but which I’m not really fond of or even really comfortable in. It’s always been very healthy, in spite of not getting the best of treatments, and its looks have been good enough to attract the partners that I wanted (up to the age of 36, at least). I’m 39 now, and suddenly need to start befriending my body. Fuck. Now, when it looks its worst. I don’t even know where to begin. I honestly don’t even believe that I can actually do it. This goes beyond mere self-confidence or self-image; I need to actually claim ownership of it, embrace it, and love it with all its imperfections. Ugh.
I realize now why I’ve always admired dancers and anyone who feels good in their own skin and unapologetically shows it. Looking at them makes me feel like it’s possible and hope that I will get there someday. Wish me luck!
I can report from first hand information that most dancers (like my wife) have a substantial amount of bad days in their bodies. And more often than not it’s not because of an injury. And from my own experience I can say, what hurts most is usually not what I think that hurts, but the way I think about it. It’s more an indicator of the quality of my thoughts, than it is about the problem I’m worrying about. You’ll figure it out. All the best! :)
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