I don't know about you, but it's 3 weeks into January and I'm still seeing ads from weight loss companies promising that their program will take me from caterpillar to butterfly in the new year.
Those before and after photos, meal replacement bars, and celebrity-sponsored "lifestyle change" programs try to lure us in with the promise that if you buy what they're selling you'll get the VIP pass to loving your body and living a fantasy life.
Of course, while they're selli
A friend and I were talking recently about something frustrating we've noticed in body image conversations. The more we make strides in body positivity (and don't get me wrong, we have a looooooong way to go), it seems it’s a bit easier to accept the softness of women's bellies, maybe even celebrate the loveliness of them, as long as they've had babies. Then we can appreciate the bellies for what they've accomplished and created. Admittedly, that's pretty incredible!
Don't forget to save your spot at the Self Care Day Retreat on May 7! Ever since I was little, my gap-free thighs have built friction when I walk that could set a fire. That friction has destroyed many beloved pairs of jeans.
Today, I said goodbye to two trusty pairs of pants that have worn threadbare in the inner thighs: black exercise pants and a pair of skinny jeans.
In the past, this would have sent me on a shame spiral that, yet again, my thighs betrayed me. My leg
Exercise used to be my unhealthy obsession. It usually felt joyless, but I gave it hours every day. I’d jog alone at night and lift weights so aggressively that I was nearly always sore. If someone delayed my "workout" (a term I rarely use now!), I would get so anxious that I wanted to cry. My friends called me a health nut, but when I was honest with myself, I wasn’t exercising for my health. I was willingly sacrificing my safety and mental health to shrink my body into OK-n
Pssst: If you're signed up for my newsletter, please note that I have a new email address! Please add firstname.lastname@example.org to your contacts. We miss out a lot when we're preoccupied with hating our bodies. I'm not only talking about the pictures we duck out of, the pools we don't swim, and the adventures we don't take. I also mean the day-to-day energy drain of tearing down our bodies, our physical homes, that makes it really hard to care for ourselves (and others).
I want to share a loving reminder with you that's been on my mind: You haven’t failed at self care, body positivity, or anything else, if your relationship with your body is on the rocks at the moment.
There are just some days when loving your body is too tall an order. Sometimes you’re in deep physical pain or you’re thoroughly exhausted. Or your inner critic may be on a bender, shaking her fists and shouting judgments that are so high-pitched you can’t hear over them. Or
The holidays can be a particularly tricky time to navigate eating and body image. The ramped up break room conversations about the treachery of cookies and looming New Year’s diets* can be enough to make even the loudest body positive voices feel a little anxious.
Today I want to share with you my personal holiday eating “rule,” in case it’s helpful for your self care, too. Although it isn’t always easy, the rule is simple.
Don’t take on other people’s food shame.