neural pathways can feel like thorns

**A little disclosure.  This is my personal experience with the self consciousness that comes with being in a bigger body.  I do talk about weight and some triggering things, if that isn’t your cup of tea or it’s an incredibly hard subject to take in skip on ahead!**

Stubborn wounds don’t heal without a fight, I’ll tell ya that much.  

In my previous post I lightly touched on the first time I really remember the seeds of shame being planted into a deep part of my psyche.  The seed of ‘you are wrong, you need to be fixed, if you want to survive in our society you have to conform’ can grow into the kind of invasive plant that won’t go down without a fight (Himalayan Blackberry is the first that comes to mind.  The fruit can be sweet but the removal riddled with incredibly painful thorns).  This particular seed was planted when the BMI changed overnight and suddenly I was in the group of kids that were at risk, or included in, the ‘epidemic’ of childhood obesity and diabetes.  Every doctor visit from the age of I think, maybe 9/10, was centered around my weight.  No matter my illness the conversation of concern over my weight was always at the heart of it.  And to be so young with a brain that is still developing and trying to learn how to be a human on this planet while having to start holding the projected expectations and fears about the body I had been gifted was enough to create a foundational anxiety and fear of going to the doctor.  Even at that age I had enough shame to know that no matter the reason I was being seen it would always come back to my weight.  And that was enough to stoke the flame of insecurity that bore into my little heart and mind and suddenly I was aware of my body in every moment, every interaction.  By the time I was 12 I was visiting a specific clinic for fat kids–the kind of place where you exercise, work with a nutritionist (I had to write down everything I ate during the week so they could keep tabs) and just kinda feel like shit about yourself the whole time.  I can still remember the scaries that would sit in knowing after school my mom and I would make the trek through the city to a depressing gray business center and spend an hour or so focused on the things that were wrong about my body.

Then came diets, disordered eating (I am very fucking lucky I made it through high school without developing an eating disorder, but I can actively say I have participated in disordered eating habits), clocking my body in every mirror and only seeing what was wrong with me and starting to see and experience the chokehold body image and the patriarchy had/have on the adult women that I spent time with.  I remember my mom’s circle of friends who were femme ALWAYS talking about what diet they were on, which diet didn’t work for them (most fad and crash diets are not sustainable in so many ways), how much they wanted to change their body, how much they talked down about themselves, how much shame was able to take over and completely dampen their spirit until they could no longer see their beauty–only the things that were wrong with them.  And dwelling on all of the ‘wrong’ parts of them, something I could suddenly relate to when in those circles.  In some ways it opened the door for me to connect with the women in my life that I so desperately wanted validation, connection and love from but to only find that validation because I too saw my body as wrong had lasting effects on that little kiddo who just wanted to be seen for who she was, and who she was was wrong and this seemed like the only way to be ‘correct’.  

I can look back now and recognize that little Callie was just following the feeling of affirmation, of validation.  The feeling that for one of the first times I had a reason to bond with the women whose love I wanted most in the world.  And I can also recognize that it was the first time I felt truly validated as a kid in my ‘choices’ even if I wasn’t the one making them.  I was simply following the rules and expectations the world I was growing into expected me to follow.  And to find a reason to feel connection from the women who I wanted it so badly from was all I had ever wanted.  

From then on (or at least for a good number of years) I sought that validation daily.  I started dieting, rewards were structured around the weight I lost, I would move through 10+ hours of school and rehearsals (arts high school)  functioning off one slim fast shake I drank for lunch.  But you know what, I fucking did it.  The sudden validation and affirmation I was receiving from those parts of my life gave me the fuel I needed to stoke the fire of determination–and as a Capricorn moon that fire will go a long way in deterring that prickly, invasive and incredibly painful wound of deep shame for the body I so desperately wanted to love.

I can say through the years I have been fortunate to have a beautiful community to hold me and love me in the ways my heart needs.  And I truly believe those relationships are the metaphorical sheers that help cut back the painful invasion formative experiences can create.  And I can actively say, through experience, that no matter how many diets I was on, how much I exercised and pushed my body to sometimes not ideal limits, how often I clocked myself in the mirror and started making a mental list of what was wrong with me, my body has changed very little.  And I can also say with confidence, even if people want to look at me and create their immediate judgments and projections, my sweet body has provided an incredible home for my heart and has helped me power through both the good and bad times.  And even though the wound runs deep, the shame has the ability to turn into hurt which can turn into grace which can turn into a calloused scar in which deep love and healing can encourage to heal.

There are still old habits that die young.  I still catch myself clocking my stomach in mirrors before anything else, but the voice of kindness is so much louder than shame.  I am fortunate to have such incredible affirmation from those I love which can make even the deepest wounds feel like light scratches.  I still have incredible doctor anxiety even though I know I have the power to be in control of my visits and that includes making sure the appointment never revolves only around my weight (this is much easier said than done, the first question often asked when you are perceived as fat no matter what you are being seen for is ‘well, you should probably think about losing weight’).  Being taught to suck in my stomach at all times to appear thinner has been the hardest habit to break–especially considering unlearning this habit means relearning which muscles are supposed to be engaged to help support you which can be really hard to focus on (if this is something you are working on I recommend starting with getting to know and love your pelvic floor–it’s very important to have strength there).  But despite the age and wear of the neural pathway such shame created all those years ago, the pain does not linger.  It can be triggered–for instance, I went to an annual doctors appointment yesterday and spent the entire morning trying to ward off the anxiety building in my stomach–but ultimately I no longer care about how others perceive me.  Some days are harder than others, but I’m always trying to find the best trail to follow. It’s a hard mountain to climb, but I’m doing it.  

Ok ok, I know I can be long winded so I’ll wrap things up with this–you are not inherently ‘wrong’.  We exist within a society that wants you to think you need to change yourself in order to fit into the small little box they have prepared for you.  But I can tell you that the box has always been far too small for me to fit all of my incredibly soft and joyous body and soul into.  Be kind, don’t project your shame onto other people–especially when it isn’t their to hold– and be willing to open your mind enough to recognize that everyone is uniquely themselves, and telling them to change in order to be accepted and loved in a society that feeds off the insecurity of people in order to control them is never going to end well.  

And don’t you fucking dare say anything about someones weight, especially when you have not been invited into any kind of conversation including the topic.  We all have enough shit we are fighting on a daily basis so it’s usually better to take a moment and check yourself if you are having a big feeling about someone simply trying to exist in a world that can be so unkind. Perhaps you’ll discover something about yourself you didn’t fully know until now.

To all the ones I have loved and do love who struggle or have struggled with this wound, I see you, I love you, I’m proud of you and you are really fucking incredible moving through life with such grace despite the pain.  Choosing to live authentically with love in your personal court is bravery beyond measure in so many cases.