That’s Shakespeare, by the way, opining on the unbearable heaviness of being. As per usual, I’m with Sweet William. I always thought that if I could choose a super-power, I’d choose incorporality — the ability to lose my physical body, pass through walls, fly (or at least float) and be incapable of being touched or hurt by human hands. (My husband tells me Rogue from X-Men is like this, but my nerd credentials can neither confirm nor deny.) In other words, I want to be body-less. Why? Because I hate my body.
I was too thin growing up, and now I’m much too fat. (When was I “just right”? I don’t remember that ever happening.) I am too tall, my features are insignificant, I’m graying, and just now I have a rash on my face — stress dermatitis — which makes me want to stick my head in the ground like an ostrich.
My gorgeous redheaded sister-in-law tells me to try body positivity (or at least body neutrality). My friends tell me not to engage in negativity. They’re right. I know this. I also know that it is shallow and wrong that society puts so much emphasis on a woman’s looks; that when male professionals are described, words like “leader” and “strong” are used, but when women professionals are described, words like “hot” or “cute” prevail. It’s ugly. It’s unfair. It’s the way things are.
It is also unfair to God, who made me as I am: tall, yes, but also smart. Unremarkable, but in better health than many. Temporarily red-faced, but a good listener.
I suspect that we all struggle with ourselves to an extent. I’d hate to meet someone who was totally self-satisfied, who honestly felt there was no work to be done on their innards (or out-ards). We can all do better. But honoring God means honoring ourselves, too.
I suggest a compromise. Let’s each try to think of one thing (per day) about ourselves that we like or value. I value that I can reach the top shelf at the grocery store. I will never have to ask a man to get something for me that I can’t reach. I like that my eyes show everything I am feeling. I like that my hands look like my mom’s.
That’s three things. So, how about you? What do you struggle with? What can you celebrate? How can we move past focusing on the physical to focusing on the spiritual?
I bet our souls are absolute knockouts.
5 comments
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August 25, 2017 at 4:02 am
rhcwilliams
Love this post, Lori. It’s funny how things we may never have noticed before become noticeable, if only to us. I was just noticing my neck, which reminded me of Nora Ephron’s book, “I Feel Bad About My Neck.”
Here’s a tiny excerpt: https://usatoday30.usatoday.com/life/books/excerpts/2006-08-01-my-neck_x.htm
PS I can barely reach the middle shelf in grocery stores!
August 25, 2017 at 3:12 pm
suebe
Seriously? Have you tapped into my brain again, my tall, graying sister. Wow. A friend actually commented to me that she wasn’t stupid enough not to color her hair. Umm. Yeah, I don’t think she got what she’d said. Humans really aren’t very good with subtext.
But I truly understand the body image issues as a former skinny girl whose best feature was her now graying (stupidly) hair.
A good thing? I stand and move like my dad.
August 25, 2017 at 3:40 pm
loristrawn
We stand in sisterly, graying solidarity, my tall friend!
August 26, 2017 at 9:09 pm
in
Me too, Lori. Skinny as a kid n heavy as an adult. Aw, pooh. Gripe, gripe…humph.
Great post, Lori!
August 26, 2017 at 9:24 pm
loristrawn
Thanks, In!