I love my body

"When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside cannot hurt you"

Well, this one was long overdue. I avoided writing about this topic for many reasons- it felt uncomfortable, I didn’t understand what was the root of feeling the way I did, I was running from it or I was hoping to write about it at some point in the future when I would look again “as I used to”. If you haven’t guessed it yet, I am talking about my relationship with my own body. I am 5 foot 3 inches and currently somewhere in the region of 10 stone and a half. I was skinny all my life but when I reached 25 and moved to another country something just happened and I went from 7 stone and a half to my current weight in a very short time. I managed to get skinny again between 2009 and 2012 and then again in 2015, but in rest I spent about 7 years either torturing myself with fad diets or exercising until I dropped for a while and then stopped every time my back pain would kick in. Then I would have to sit in bed and eat regular meals because of the painkillers I had to take so this became a bit of a vicious circle.. I would spend most of my journeys to work or any other places where I was surrounded by people, comparing my body with those of other women, feeling frustrated and ashamed and swearing that I will get slim again or die trying.

I am Romanian and one thing you will find on any tourist feedback form when one visits my country is “amazing food”. We love our food and we love to eat tasty foods. But after every session of making my country proud by enjoying my food, I would punish my body by starving it until I would shake, or refusing to get off a bike until I couldn’t walk anymore. In case you haven’t guessed it yet, I never do things half way.

Last Thursday, I was walking through Newstreet Train Station in Birmingham, and in my head I was trying to thank God for the beautiful sunny day and just share that moment with Him. I decided I have a serious problem when instead of enjoying that beautiful moment, I realised that for about 5 minutes I wasn’t praying nor was I enjoying anything. Instead I was constantly comparing my body shape with that of other women.

Then during the weekend, while I was in Bath, a really sweet friend asked me whilst I was busy taking pictures “Ema, don’t you want me to take a picture of you in front of the building.” I answered her, “No, thank you. I rather take pictures of buildings than of myself.”
The third incident is what completely knocked me over. I was scrolling through my Instagram feed and I noticed the posting of a person I am following. He uploaded a picture with his partner with the comment “If only this one smiled more often.” His partner was absolutely gorgeous and she had an amazing smile. Then my next thought hit me, “She is stunning and skinny, what’s there not to smile about?” Just like that! As if I knew anything about that girl’s life. As if being skinny and stunning is everything a person needs in order to smile. I had one of those moments when you grab yourself by the ear and drag yourself somewhere for a chat.

I’ve grown so much this year, I’ve learnt so much and achieved things I thought were impossible for me, I am happy and content and above all else I am healthy. What was my problem? So what if I am not size 6 or 8 anymore? Who cares? Who am I even listening to that I ended up believing that to be 37 and starve yourself in order to be a size 8 is something that should be aspired to? How did I allow someone out there to define my beautiful and most importantly why did I ever allow it? I wake up at 4,30 most mornings and do all the things I love, including exercising and eating a healthy breakfast. I have never in my memory felt more full of energy or content. So, is this something I am prepared to throw away, in order to starve myself and drag myself to bed every night without a dram of energy so that I can be a size 8 again? I am no longer prepared to accept their lies anymore, be it magazines or screens. Beautiful is not defined by skinny, or breasts size, or length of hair. A woman can have all of these attributes and be miserable and mean. That is not beautiful. That is sad.
My beautiful is being healthy and happy and content, walking about with a smile on my face, not because I fit in a perfect size 8 again, but because I get to experience so much beauty in my life that not smiling would be a crime.

Yesterday morning for the first time in my life at the “tender” age of 37, I related to my body for what it does rather than how it looks. And I loved it! It was 5,30 am and I was doing my stretches. I was never so grateful for my arms that can move perfectly, or my healthy legs than can walk and run and dance, my healthy lungs and heart, my open eyes that can see, my ears that can listen to all this beautiful music. My body is an amazing beautifully designed creation that humans still can’t fully explain in its entirety. And it is my home. I live there on the inside. And instead of taking care of my home and being grateful for it, I punished it for what my mind accepted and agreed with others on what beautiful looks like. No more!

Last time I dragged myself out of depression a few years ago, I started paying attention to the thoughts that were flying through my head in a day, so I came up with this statement: “My mind is a beautiful garden. I am very careful what I plant there. You don’t dump your rubbish in my beautiful garden.”But whilst taking care of my beautiful garden, I neglected to enjoy my beautiful home. I’m done with that. I will eat healthy and carry on walking and running and dancing, because every beautiful home deserves to be taken care of. If I am healthy and skinny, great. If I am healthy and a size 12, great. Those values mean nothing to me anymore. My health and energy levels and my contentment are my values now. I will define my own beautiful every time I will look in the mirror. I will love my body for the amazing ways in which it serves me and I will be grateful for every day that I get to be healthy and go places and do things. I am the only one who lives in this home and I am the only one who gets to decide what makes it beautiful.

"The thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life and live it more abundantly." Jesus, John 10:10

P.S. This blog is dedicated to my sister-in-law, Lavinia Pop. Thank you for consistently living your life in a way that honours your health, your life and everything you are. You are a gift and an inspiration to me.