Last week I was taking the stairs up to a unit in the hospital (as I mentioned before, taking the stairs was a change I made in September and have since kept it up). Since there are two flights of stairs between every floor, it’s a doozy to get to the fourth floor. On about floor three, huffing and puffing a bit, I looked down at my legs and smiled. How amazing is it that hiking up stairs isn’t hard for me? I looked down at my legs and one foot went in front of the other, steadily climbing until I reached the fourth floor.
I didn’t look at my legs and think about the cellulite on the back of my thighs. I didn’t wonder how many calories that flight of stairs was burning. I didn’t have a single harsh thought about my body. I was grateful.
I see people every day whose bodies just don’t work the way they are supposed to. I honestly didn’t realize that working with people who are struggling medically each day would change my own body image so drastically. While I’ve never thought my body image was unhealthy, I think every woman has her moments where she is critical of herself. I’ve certainly had those moments. I have them a lot less now than I did before.
I can’t say that this has caused me to drastically change my habits but it has made me view my body in a different way. It’s not just this thing for me to be critical of. It’s not just about how it looks. It is capable and strong. My brain tells my fingers to move when I type. I can walk Archie 6 blocks or 16. I could do a cart-wheel right now if I wanted to. My body does what I ask it to do. How amazing.