I promise I didn't forget about this blog, I just didn't know what to write about for a while, until today. If you think this post is about my love life, you are quite wrong (although I may start a new blog about it, give me your thoughts about it). This post is all about being positive with my body and self-love. I know that it is a vulnerable subject to talk about but it is important to me and I figure it can help someone else out there.
So at the beginning of the summer, I was feeling kind of crappy about myself. I was starting my job, and couldn't help but feel like I wasn't like the other staff members. I mean I know that I am not like them, I mean I'm a Black girl who was raised in Salt Lake City, Utah and Maryland and go to Colorado College; I'm fucking unique. And although I can recognize my uniqueness, I can also recognize that I am not the most physically fit person unlike the rest of the staff.
I used to make this joke that my brother got the athletic gene, and I got the smart gene. While my brother did Taekwondo and basketball, I read books and wrote stories. Don't get me wrong, I have tried to do basketball and volleyball and go on hikes, but nothing stuck. I didn't find it as enjoyable as reading a book or doing homework (yes, I am one of those kids and no I wasn't adopted). I have always struggled with my weight and still do. My thick thighs, pudgy stomach, and love for food has always been a part of my life. And usually I don't care about what others think of my appearance, but at the same time I can't help but notice the stares. I usually can get over it, but this summer I couldn't shake it.
As I started working, I was feeling pretty confident with what I brought to the table. I have an outgoing personality, a great work ethic, I'm both a team player and also can work independently, and on top of that I love meeting new people (you can hire me at any moment). But as much as I am aware of what I bring to the table, I am also aware of what I don't have on the table. I low key despise heavy physical activity and running. I don't mind going on for walks, but anything strenuous, I will either protest or do it with extreme hesitation. I just could imagine myself as this fat person attempting to run or do some sport and ending up looking dumb. It sounds stupid I know, but it is what I think when I even attempt to exercise in public. And I know that a lot of pressures in order for me to be "skinnier" and being unrealistically fit has to do with societal pressures and expectations. And even though I am aware of it, it still took a toll on my confidence and self-esteem. I wasn't fully loving myself. So I began to tackle my confidence and self-esteem issues head on.
I started picking out what I didn't like about myself and why. I'm not a huge fan of my thighs because I don't have a thigh gap and they sorta jiggle. Then I laughed when I realized I was mad that my thighs were touching each other. I'm also not a huge fan of my stomach. I don't like having this extra body fat just chilling and expertly hiding my six pack. I also don't like that I am not the most athletic or outdoorsy person out there, which is kind of funny since I go to school in Colorado and was raised in Utah, but hey shit happens. I do know that just because I am not a lover of the outdoors or physical activity, doesn't mean it has to stay that way. I can definitely change that and learn to get into that. And I did.
After identifying all of that, I wanted to give myself a mantra or self-affirmation that I could say as I get ready for the day. I wanted it to focus on my self-esteem and confidence. And for the most part it worked. I was starting to feel pretty good about myself, but I still wasn't about exercising. I mean I went to the gym and I would sometimes go for walks, but nothing serious. So when my friends texted me letting me know that I was invited to go on the incline with them on Saturday, I was like "fuck it what's the worst that can happen? I can do it!"
After a very fun night at a karaoke bar, I got some rest and woke up at the crack of dawn and got ready for the climb. I felt like shit, but I did it anyway. I put on my "Don't Worry Be Yonce" tank, packed up my Camelbak and set out for the day. We made it to Manitou and the shuttle perfectly fine. I complain as I walked up the hill that led to the base of the incline. We took a selfie and started walking. My friend Ellie was awesome enough to give me a goal for when I could take a break. And at first it went great, but I still wasn't too great. Finally I had to stop. I hadn't even gotten to the false top/peak (yes, that is a thing). I didn't want to stop, but I felt sick and that I couldn't do it. I felt ashamed for quitting on my friends and on this stupid mountain. After a brief consultation, I made the decision to just turn around and wait for them. Once I got back down, I called my mom and cried. I cried because I couldn't climb up a mountain. Because I didn't feel well and I had to listen to my body. I cried because I didn't think I was good enough and that my body wasn't good enough. That Saturday, I felt more hate for myself than I had in a long time. After calling my mom and crying in her ear, I called my dad and whimpered. They both told me the same thing. That it was okay and that I can try again. That this should motivate me. I know that they were right, but it is still a hard pill to swallow. So I sat and sulked as I watched everyone else complete the climb that I didn't do. After awhile I tried to go up a different trail, where I can meet them, but I didn't feel good so I turned around and waited like 5 minutes before they came on down. We walked back down to the shuttle and then drove to the springs. I was quiet the whole time. I was happy for my friends that they made it and that I could see them at the finish line, but I still was mad at myself. All I could tell myself is that "at least I tried" and that I can do it again. Although it wouldn't be the same because my friends would have already done it, I could still try again. I didn't believe this until this morning.
This morning, I woke up feeling okay. I woke up realizing that I am not perfect and that I am a work in progress. I woke up wanting to climb that fucking mountain again. But most importantly, I woke up extremely proud of myself. I accomplished several things:
- I woke up at 5:30am and got ready, despite feeling sick and without coffee or tea
- I decided to go despite not feeling well
- I made it up the hill to the base
- I made it a quarter of the way
- I listened to my body and my emotions
- I didn't just leave because I couldn't go up the incline
- I still had some fun
My summer love has nothing to do with a boy, although there have been a few. My summer love is with myself. I am continuously learning to love myself and everyday is a struggle. I am slowly but surely realizing that I can take baby steps when it comes to exercise as long as I am moving. My summer love is about accepting myself for who I am and continuing to remind myself that I am always worthy because I am a human being and I am of existence.
