mirror ball 73: what I like (or love) about my body

What I like (or love) about my body.

Heather:
I appreciate my many scars. They’re fantastic reminders of what this body & I have overcome already. They continue to be a persuasion of hope that this too will pass & I will be stronger for striving through it.

John:
I've been working with a personal trainer for about a year now, working out hard with him for a half hour twice a week. I added this to a pretty dedicated yoga practice, going to class on average four times each week. The added exercise has led to some rewarding weight loss and increased muscle. I'll admit it: I get a kick out seeing my waistline shrinking, the emerging definition around my abs, and the broadening across my shoulders and back. I hit some "tipping point" recently at which a few people have said to me, "hey, you've lost weight" -- in a "you look good" kind of way. Some part of my brain is trying to tell me I'm shallow and vain for caring about this, but the deeper truth is it feels just great to look strong, slim, and muscular.

Steve:
I love that my body is teaching me about itself, now that I am exercising and am more able to listen to what it has to tell me. I love how strong it can be, through power that comes from inside. For the first time I know what it's like to wear myself out through hard activity and to feel more energized as a result. I love that my body has its own mind, in a sense-- my head brain might be saying that I'm miserable and want to stop, but when I tune in to my body's brain-- or voice-- it's often saying "I want to do this, bring it on". 

Bruce:
I have been very proud of my body, and less so since growing more mature! But it is what I have and I have come to learn to live with it. A while back –6 years or so, actually—I realized that I AM in charge of  my body, so off to Weight Watchers I went…and for two years really got into “it”—that is watching what goes into my body etc. End result: a loss of nearly FIFTY pounds…a happier heart, and two sizes of pants  smaller, and a deeper sense of control…self and body. Having met my goal—doctor agreed—and, now, having been a lifetime member of WW, I have ceased checking in each month ‘cause I can do it myself without the monthly validator. Still not all that proud of my body, but my soul is happier.

I am a silver-daddy, that is my hair is a semi-handsome mix of salt ‘n pepper, and many folks never guess my age (tho that’s just a number!). Again my hair is “merely” an outward sign of who I REALLY am…and, I am much more than my physical “presentation.” That is, sorta, reassuring, given the YOUTH culture that seems to thrive in ‘zines, on the telly, and in all too many attitudes. I am who I am and I am becoming more at home in my body.

Now the other part of my being: my soul! That’s a life-long odyssey of self-discovery and validation. Maybe that’s an idea for another short post. Who knows?

Lori F:
I wasn't sure at first if my hair really counted as an actual body part but I'm going with it and here's why.

My hair is long, curly and pretty huge, always has been always will be. I have to say if there is one thing about my physical appearance that I can consistently say I'm happy with it's my hair. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful that I have the body I do, arms, legs, eyes and ears that all work, again, I am very lucky.

But my hair is kind of "my thing". The '80s was the decade my hair was meant to star in. I've always had issues with my weight and have felt that on days when I felt my thighs/stomach/butt look too big that my hair could "balance me out" -- the bigger the better.

Today my hair continues to remain bigger than most. I look forward to keeping it that way -- growing old with a giant mane -- eventually becoming that old lady with the long curly, gray hair.

Veronica:

I love my skin for its ability to adapt and mold into the various forms it has taken over the course of my life. While taking a glimpse into the picture book of my life, I am able to identify that the years when I was heavier were the years I was also the most depressed and unhappy. In retrospect, I have come to recognize that each of these forms, large and small, have been assigned value placements and are place holders of memories. While this sounds like a horribly vain realization, it is also reflective of my growth in the self-love and self-care departments.

As a child, I was fairly large due to self-developed coping mechanisms that involved unhealthy relationships with food. During my late teenage years, in one of many attempts made to separate myself from family and focus on autonomy, I learned ways to manage my emotions and detach from the acceptance of who I was told I was. As I learned to care for myself and accept the skin I was in, I sought to develop patterns that benefitted my personal wellbeing, stability and nurtured a previously foreign idea of self-worth.

My skin carries scars, is tan, stretched and marked with pigment and wrinkles. At first glance, these are hard to accept and appreciate. I am thankful that my eyes are closest to the place where memories are stored and that there are nerves that connect those memories with my heart. It is there that I find compassion and love for the skin I am in. 

Garris:
I'm sure that Steve could actually answer this month's pondering for me. Without a doubt the part of my body that I love the most....that does carry a great deal of my history and can be both a strength and a weakness....are my feet. I've always loved my feet. I have the feet of my Aunt Julia V (I discovered this one day when I was a kid and I looked at her long toes and exclaimed "We have the same FEET!"). When I was a dancer I was always very proud of my feet....strong...great arch....great point. I have abused my feet over the years....dancing on them....wearing shoes that cramp them...and they do complain from time to time....but we work well together.

photo of Garris's feet by Steve Hohenboken

Lori M:
I am a redhead and have always liked my red hair. So many other redheads I've run across over the years have gone through periods of hating their hair color, whether it's because of being teased as a kid, or what-have-you. I don't remember being teased so much as being asked quite often "where did you get your beautiful red hair?". I was never sure how to answer that one and couldn't come up with a snappy answer, but it didn't bother me so much. A boy in my high school used to call me Tomato Head in a really loud voice, but it was always good-natured. He came up with that one because we were discussing how stupid and inaccurate the name Carrot Top was for a red head. Aren't carrot tops green??! At least Tomato Head was closer to my hair color on the color wheel. I remember one gruff old guy who ran the hardware store I used to go to with my mom used to always say, "Hey, Red," from behind the counter. What's funny is that I've never been attracted to red-headed men - save one. He was Scottish, though, so maybe it was his beautiful accent.

Laura Liz:
My favorite physical feature about myself is a freckle on the inside of my ring finger on my left hand. I was never aware of it until I had a dream about it when I was 20. I had a huge crush on this girl and in the dream she was sucking chocolate off my fingers. She thought the freckle was a stubborn bit of chocolate and just kept sucking... When I woke up I was like, "oh wow, I *do* have a freckle there!" I have been fond of it ever since.