dancing perceptions
I’m always taken a bit aback by the extent of my body-hatred.
At this point in my life, I don’t have an eating disorder, anymore, or any truly disordered relationship with food. How do I know this? Because I can taste the flavor of food. When I had a pretty shit relationship with food, I genuinely barely tasted it. That’s what made it easy to skip out on, binge out on, or waste because it was like comparing one slightly less mundane thing to another. I basically had zero connection to food. In retrospect, this was largely due to the fact that I wasn’t eating or exposed to foods that my body (or tastebuds…) liked, at least when it started in my teens. But I had to do some deep, deeeeep, healing and inner work to really get to the point where I really could enjoy food.
My first foodgasm was in Florance, Italy, while I was eating the best pizza I have ever had in my life. I was with a friend, and we were dressed in 100% silk clothing and just having a fabulous lady lunch date on a warm summer day. And it all sounds like sunshine and rainbows until you put “two and two together”, and clock that it was literally an orgasm…. from food. Not realizing that that was even possible, I was wholly unprepared to experience a casual climax, in the middle of the restaurant, that ended up soaking through my outfit. Fortunately though, as the gods would have it, I was able to sit half on my chair to let it air out a bit - and the silk skirt dried quickly in the hot Italian air - so I could then head to the bathroom to address any remaining situation. Since then, I have had several foodgasms, though not as intense as the first, and I do continue to dance and mini-squeal with joy when I particularly love a food experience.
So, my relationship with food is not the problem…. at least not consciously…
Now, we could point it to childhood, and inherited body dysmorphia and criticism. Which, granted, is probably where it originated and grew legs. But, at this point in my life, I have done so much goddamn healing work - in incredibly uncomfortable and incisive ways - that I’m still a bit caught off guard by my own discomfort with my literal physical form, aka the one I have had my entire life.
Like, full-stop, I’ll see pictures of myself, and be taken aback. “Dear god, is that what I look like?” And the consistency of me being the exact same phenotype over my 30 years of life… you’d think that, by now, I would have caught on to what I looked like. The shape of my face, the way my mouth smiles, my cheeks, my legs, my back, my arms - where on earth did I get the idea that I didn’t look the exact same as I always have?
I find this endlessly fascinating and infuriating……and a nearly-useless pursuit of thought.
The reason I’m thinking of this, currently, is because - despite working out all the time - I’ve picked up a bit of squish while here in Brazil. I wouldn’t say the norm meal is “slim-friendly” but, again, I no longer have these food rules. And the churrasco here is worth every kilo (I’m nearly drooling thinking about that meat, goddamn).
I was just in Mexico City with a friend, who I feel like has a special gift of taking the absolute worst pictures I have ever seen of myself. He takes ONE picture, and doesn’t exactly wait for you to be ready. GODDAMNIT…. But, alas, it is sometimes refreshing to be so allowed to be yourself, that they think a clearly and indisputably shitty picture of you is a good one to remember. (That is the perception I’m choosing to have, and I will die on this hill).
So where the fuck is this deep rooted body dysmorphia coming from???
My current answer is that I have actually been over-hermitting, and spending too much time alone. I love me some alone time; I prefer my company above all else. But, there is a point where I’m just pretending to not feel sad, isolated, and a bit abandoned/undesirable. I’m a dynamite person, in both its positive and negative expressions. You gotta have some thick skin to be close to me because for all of my loving and warm energy, as I always say, I have the exact same force and magnitude of its opposite expression. Those sharp edges might not come out all the time, but when they do, it’s no joke.
I do deeply believe that the origins of my discontent are simply always related to being caught up in my own survivor bullshit. Despite every experience I’ve had that has refuted its usefulness, somewhere inside of me believes that staying small, keeping silent, and basically being a shadow of a human is some feat worth accomplishing. Why? Probably because it is entirely outside of my wheelhouse to do so. No matter how long I hold out, what I felt the impulse to say and do WILL come out, and WILL happen, but probably in a less advantageous way as originally intended. This is also probably why I don’t maintain long-term friendships all that well because I don’t like to lead with my confrontational nature…..but it sure as hell follows. If someone is friends with me for my sweetness, they are sure as hell going to be a bit blindsided when I come in with that “helpful feedback” that they were entirely unprepared to hear.
Probably best to start off authentically…and allow people to think I’m a bitch, right away. (Because the weaker ones always will, eventually, anyways..)
But yea, I’m sure the insistence my subconscious has to being less than what I am leads to exhaustion, so less (intensive) workouts, and isolation (from fear of rejection). WHICH ALL LEADS TO SELF-SOOTHING WITH FOOD. Goddamnit - maybe my relationship with food is still fucked because my relationship with my body is clearly like an Alien-Human kind of deal, at present…
But, alas, I can only do so much at this time. Thus, action items will be created, and followed (…or not followed…).
Side bar - My Human Design motivation is “Hope”, so despite the fact that making lists and plans is more of a “Guilt” motivation (which is the Not-Self of my chart…), I found a loop hole: I hope that the following list of actions items is helpful to me. (Done. Crisis adverted.)
Current Plans to Counteract Body Disliking
(1) More Group Workout Classes - Despite doing pilates most days, and now Muay Thai, I can truly be lazy as fuck when it comes to cardio. And I need to be doing cardio. Not only does my body feel better, but the people around me are also safer because, that’s right, my pent up energy turns into anger REAL QUICK. Love that for me <3
(2) Not Living Alone - I need my alone time, and I need my space, but for the love of God, I am so over living alone. My default mode of being is to Hermit. I am The Hermit. I hide like my life depends on it. And, based on my hyper-independent chapters of life, I have convinced even my close friends that I’m a low maintenance and solitude type of person. Turns out, I am, in fact, neither of these things.
(3) More Smoothies - For some fucking reason, smoothies are not common here. Everything is sucos or acai with whey protein. No whey… But I used to really enjoy my avocado-banana-berry and CACAO smoothies with chocolate protein powder (normally vegan, because I actually used to be allergic to milk protein - clearly not a big deal, anymore, but I digress). I fucking love chocolate protein smoothies, and yea that definitely alludes to my good ol’ American blood. Bite me.
(4) Taking More Pictures - Because I’m vain. No…well…probably a little… but I need to just learn how to feel comfortable infront of a camera without absolutely shitting the bed. My bad pics are actually from me panicking and not having even the slightest idea of what my good angles are. HOW DO YOU FIND THOSE?! Tis’ a quest of narcissism, por mim.
That is all.