Photo cred: Silvana Denker

I am both excited and terrified to share the most vulnerable part of my childhood with you; and while I know that many of you may share these same sentiment’s, it breaks my heart that you do.

When I was younger I struggled with body image issues – badly. I was a chubby kid and I was constantly comparing myself to other girls in my class. I remember my friend Katie – she had thin arms and I can remember thinking, “Why aren’t my arms skinny like Katie’s?” I thought that’s how girls were supposed to look – you know, skinny. I hated my body and I was ashamed that I didn’t look the way a little girl was supposed to.

This shame led to self-loathing and sadness that I held inside for so many years. I felt bad about the way I looked and my insecurities seeped out of me, and onto other people. I started to make fun of other people to compensate for my own lack of self esteem. I had become the everything that the person I am today stands up against.

I wrote this in my diary when I was 11 – yup. 11 years old.

(Actual excerpt from my diary)

If you can’t read it says:

Reason’s to lose weight:

PRO’S

1. So people will stop making fun of me
2. Higher self-esteem
3. I will lower my cholesterol
4. I will be more athletic and more able to lift heavy weights

CON’S

1. Hard work
2. No time to relax and do “kid stuff”

This was what I was thinking and journalling about at the age of 11.

I had already decided that I was fat, and that in order for people to “like me more,” I would need to be skinny. I had already developed a fear-based relationship with my body, food and exercise at the age of eleven. I lived inside this disempowering narrative for many years. So I made it my mission to lose weight.

Before I go more into my story I just want to take a quick second to highlight the absurdity of my 11-year-old self obsessing about her body image. But also on how pervasive this narrative is for young girls all over the world. We grow up thinking that we need to look like the people we see on T.V., in magazines, in movies, in advertisements – and we put pressure on ourselves to look that way. We equate our self-worth to our waistlines, and our self-esteem to our looks. It breaks my heart. I was that little girl who didn’t love herself because she didn’t look how she thought she was supposed to. I will be damned if my children grow up in a world where that is the expectation.

I can remember doing my moms old-school work out videos every single morning

Yes, the one’s where the instructors wore leotards with leg warmers, and onesies that resemble bathing suits. We got an elliptical and I spent as long as I could on it everyday. I was desperately trying to lose weight so people would like me more. I did lose weight, but from the time I was 12-years-old until much after university, I lived in constant fear: I wanted to be skinny, because I needed to be accepted.

 

As you can see I had a very rigorous workout schedule! My friends and I laugh about this now. Yes, it is funny to look back at the 11-year-old, now Kinesiologist/Personal trainer, already having an understanding of the principles of exercise at such a young age. But there is a problematic, underlying narrative at play here. My obsession with needing to look a certain way to be liked, and my unstoppable will to make it happen.

I was a rugby player in university, and so initially my intention around exercise was to be an awesome rugby player, and to be as fit as possible. I didn’t care about being skinny. I cared about being strong and fit. “Strong” and “fit” became the new skinny. What I couldn’t see was that this new narrative was just more of the same thing. It was still an obsession.

Even once I left university in 2013 I had a bit of a fitness crisis. I was working as a personal trainer, telling everyone else how to exercise, but I couldn’t figure out how to create a program that I actually liked. One that I actually wanted to do, or that resonated with who I had become. I experimented with different physical activities. I ran a half marathon and took up running. I tried exercise classes – I even bought a “beach body” workout series – which I hated! But I just didn’t want to do any of those things. I didn’t connect with them, and I didn’t care enough about being “skinny” like I used to, to just do anything.

So here I was, this personal trainer who was preaching to everyone about fitness and health, and yet I couldn’t create something for myself that stuck.

It wasn’t until the context I had for exercise shifted, that I truly changed.

What I realized was that intention is everything, and I had been exercising with of the intention of being super fit, and super strong. If i’m honest, I wasn’t having fun.

I wish that there was some big “aha” moment that I could pin point for you as the exact moment I stopped obsessing about what I looked like. I don’t think there is though. It’s more like a tipping point. Slowly over time, things changed and I shifted my way of looking at things including myself and my body image.

Finally, for the first time in my life, I wanted to enjoy what I was doing. I wanted to feel good. I wanted there to be a deeper purpose behind my exercise – deeper than how I looked. I had spent so many years convincing myself that I needed to look a particular way – skinny, then strong, then fit.  I just wanted to do something that was fun and challenging and that actually made me feel good.

Finally, I decided to try out one month of yoga – and I have never looked back.

Practicing yoga became more than just an exercise – it was a daily practice of moving meditation.

Practicing yoga kept me strong, flexible and active, I was able to manage my anxiety better. I had finally found something that I absolutely loved doing. Most of all I wasn’t doing it out of a desperation to look a certain way. I was doing it because I loved how it made me feel. I was finally free from the fear of how other people would perceive me based on my looks because quite frankly I just didn’t give a shit anymore.

I don’t have a toned stomach, or thin arms or legs – or thin anything for that matter. But I am absolutely in love with what I do and how I look – even though it doesn’t look like 11-year-old me thought it should. Don’t get me wrong, there are still moments of judgement. Still moments when I look at myself with a judgemental eye. Moments when I wish I were thinner, stronger, more toned – I am human. But in acknowledging my humanity, I know that I wont ever be “perfect.” There is power in noticing these thoughts, acknowledging their humanity, and moving forward.

There is freedom far greater than you can ever possibly imagine when you drop the idea of how you want to look, and begin to focus on how you want to feel. Societal pressures will not change. Men in locker rooms, at night clubs, and on the streets may not change their “expectations” of how women ought to look, but you can change the way you look at yourself.

Here is the biggest thing I learned from my battle with negative body image:

Your body is perfect exactly as it is in this moment. Choose to look at yourself and your body with love. You are beautiful. You are perfect. You are worthy EXACTLY as you are in this moment – nothing added, nothing taken away, simply as you are.