loving me

someone once said that in our culture, ripe with self-hatred, the biggest rebellion there is, is to love yourself. flaws and all.

i love this....in theory of course. the actual loving myself has been a draining and erratic journey. and, damn it anyway, i am still not at the holy grail. 

but i vowed to. it was that fateful evening when i discovered that my four year old cousin was ashamed of her body. the word fat should not be in her vocabulary and yet, there she was, crying fat.

i was outraged, saddened and determined.

i wrote a letter. it was succinct and went something like this:

dear world,

you want me to hate myself. i won't.

suck it.

love,

brittany

it was adorned with my signature, loopy wiggles and squiggles that meant i was committed.

after all, i knew that if we all continued to hate ourselves, young women would follow suit. 

their power would fall to the way side, it would mean nothing. nothing. unless they truly loved themselves in a way that no one else possibly could.

true to form - i did not have a plan.
although i began to realize that this path to loving myself is inextricably linked to wellness
i don't know why.
i don't know when this became the case.
maybe it was always the case.
but i realized that if i was not taking care of my body...i did not really love my body.

and thus it began.

i would love to report that i stared at myself in the mirror with lovestruck eyes and whispered sweet beautiful nothings to myself.
i did not.
i am not quite there yet.

but i have been spending mornings and evenings and any other minute i can spare to practicing gratitude.
being grateful for my body.
early mornings, i push snooze and reserve the next ten minutes to think these thoughts...

i am thankful for my hips.
i am thankful for my breasts.
i am thankful for my hair.

and it continues until i have acknowledged all my parts in all their imperfect glory.

i have also become more introspective and have began to ask myself the really tough questions..
you know, like,

do i really want that latte?

as it turns out, i do not.
when i drink it, i don't feel well physically.
i feel accomplished...like i have checked something off my to do list...but i do not feel well.
of course there are times i can predict the sluggish aftermath of one too many cookies.
but i do it anyway.
the 90/10 rule, folks.

i feel different. i feel happier. and rumour has it, when you feel happy, you radiate happiness regardless of your dress size.
i vow to pay it forward.

up next: naked dance parties