Tag Archives: body

Body Image: What Do YOU See In the Mirror?

IMG_1667“You are imperfect, permanently and inevitably flawed. And you are beautiful.” –Amy Bloom

Hello friend,

In November, basically for the whole month, I was having lots of tummy troubles. After lunchtime, I felt bloated and yucky and could hardly eat the rest of the day without feeling even more awful. It was distressing and puzzling, especially since, despite my shrinking diet, my belly seemed to grow bigger and softer with each passing day. I have never been a fan of the scale as an indicator of health—preferring leanness and energy as my guides—and I don’t often get around to standing on one, but I was pretty sure of my weight when I wrote “200” on my driver’s license renewal form in early October. So, in mid-December, when I decided to try the scale in the locker room at my gym and saw “208,” I just about fell over. It really freaked me out. I was both alarmed and seriously disappointed. I guess I had hoped that I had been delusional about my new and growing mid-section, that maybe it was just temporary bloating. The scale made it clear that I was not. So began my version of a psychological mini-crisis.

I have spent my whole life believing I could look and feel great if only I exercise often, mostly ignoring the nutrition side of the argument. So, after the holidays wrapped up, I ramped up my workout schedule. I added a few minutes to each session, and I eliminated the day or two off I often took on the weekend. I had a streak of 76 consecutive workout days before a travel day broke it, but I haven’t missed one since. I also became slightly obsessed with checking the scale at the gym each morning, begging for good news. Sadly, it has not budged one bit in the right direction. Instead, it is only reminding me that I have become the overweight, middle-aged guy I swore I would never be.

It has really forced me to come to grips with the idea that I may never look physically fit—and what I think of as attractive—ever again (at least not without such desperate measures as eliminating sugar, which I really don’t want to do). It is a reality check, and not just for my middle-agedness.

I guess I have always had a complicated relationship with my body. For most of my years, I have sworn up and down that my physique was not appealing, and I picked at it regularly. For some of those same years, though, I was willing to talk with modeling agents or audition for plays that required a shirtless, attractive body. I didn’t mind doing yard work in just a pair of shorts. I think that under my verbal façade and perfectionism, I must have had some belief that my body was attractive.

I also know that despite my general attitude that says, “ I am not trying to impress anybody,” I am vain. I would prefer to look good. I have mostly conquered my demons with my prematurely grey hair, and I am doing my best to make peace with my body hair (which I really hate, by the way). But the actual physique is another matter. Though I have never tried to dress to impress—I am mostly a sweatpants guy–it is fair to say that I always wanted to be seen as someone who looks good in various states of undress.

I think this complicated view of my humble/vain self has revealed itself quite vividly in recent months with my new belly fat. It is a check on that part of me that always said I wasn’t attractive. The new body is rubbing it in that guy’s face, saying, “So, you want to claim ‘unattractive’? Well, now you don’t have a choice! You’re stuck with it! Now, how does it really feel? Not so good, huh?” It has been a difficult process for me psychologically, I fully admit.

Which brings us to my recent adventures of being bare-bellied in public….

As a mini-Spring Break, I took the family to a waterpark for a couple of days. An enormous and popular destination, we were packed in there by the hundreds. In very close quarters. In our swimsuits! When you are inching your way up those stairs at an elderly snail’s pace, your face is about six inches away from the next person’s bare back. Seeing another person’s body that close doesn’t bother me at all. No, the part that preys on my insecurities is the knowledge that there is a person one step below me, staring at my expanding, hairy back from just six inches away. Are they back there studying how much pudge is hanging over the sides of my suit, how many moles I have, or the uneven patterns of hair growth?

Or, are they freaking out about the person right behind them, whom they believe is judging the girth of their hips or the birth mark on their shoulder?

I am not very judgmental about other people’s bodies in these public pool/lake/locker room situations. I never find myself thinking, “That is gross!” or “What a pig!” or “He should get to the gym!” No, I ogle everybody out of pure curiosity. My comments in my head are more like, “Isn’t it interesting how that guy has such hairy legs but only a few sprigs on his chest, while that guy next to him has no more hair than the first guy on his legs but is covered on his torso, front and back.” Or, “That lady’s stretch marks make a really cool design.”   Or, “Wow, everyone’s breasts are so different, even from the other one on the same body!” I think I am unusually fascinated by people’s bodies. I could easily do an experiment of sitting behind a two-way mirror in a men’s or women’s locker room for a day, just studying the many ways we look: where the fat gathers, what sags and how far, where the hair grows, and all of our different shapes and sizes. It is endlessly interesting to me!

When I am not being fascinated by other people’s bodies, though, I am being self-conscious of my own. I wonder if someone nearby is disgusted by my body hair. I wonder if my physique is still appealing to anyone there, or if I just blend into the “out-of-shape, middle-aged dude that I wouldn’t look at twice” masses. I wonder how I rate and how far that rating has fallen. That is A LOT of stuff churning through a mind just to go swimming in public!

That’s why I wonder if other people are going through the same drama. After all, I still showed up, still pretended it was no big deal to be hanging around a large group of strangers half-naked. So did they. Are we all just great actors, or are they not as self-conscious as I am? Maybe people’s bodies and the feelings they have about them are so fascinating to me because it seems like such a taboo subject in our society. I simply don’t know what other people think and feel about their bodies, because I have never had those conversations! I have them with myself, but I have no idea if I am representative of the population at large.

The body parts of others are fascinating—not gross or embarrassing–to me, as I said, but I am guessing that they, like me, judge all of their own parts harshly, and, consequently, feel some level of shame about each. It is this shame I wonder most about.

American society has sure saddled us with some serious hang-ups about our bodies! The Hollywood and Madison Avenue version of the human body is not just difficult but completely unrealistic for most of us to attain, not to mention maintain. It is easy to get sucked into the spiral of self-loathing when it comes to our bodies. Too easy. I have seen it too many times in my friends and extended family. I still hate listening to teenage girls, who seem most prone to internalize the message and harm themselves as a result.

But honestly, I think we are all victims of it to some degree. I know I am. I think back to the few days I worked as an extra on the TV show “Baywatch,” how everyone on the set had that model body. What do they all look like now? More importantly, how harshly are they judging themselves now? It is weird how we played into the message, even while we were victims of it simultaneously. Of course, twenty years later, I am still judging my body by the same standards I did then. Even though I understand intellectually that it is a silly waste of energy to attach any emotions to my body, and that it has nothing to do with who I really am, I keep doing it. It’s a bad idea, I know, but that is where I am right now. I just don’t much like how this old bag of bones looks anymore.

How about you? How do you feel about your body? Open up your journal and dive into this sensitive subject. Which direction do your thoughts tend to go when you look into the mirror? Do you immediately focus on the parts of your body that you don’t like? Are there parts of your reflection that you really like, and do you allow your mind to appreciate those parts, too? Which parts of your physique do you wish you could change? How strong is that wish? Are there any parts that are truly embarrassing for you? Do you have any parts that you like to show off a bit? Overall, on the spectrum from praise and confidence on one end to shame and disgust on the other–with “I don’t give it a second thought” right around the middle–where is your relationship with your body right now? How has that changed over the years? How comfortable are you in talking about this subject with friends and family? Why do you think that is? I know that one of my reasons for not engaging others in a dialogue is that it seems very easy to offend others’ sensitivities, as we all have different standards for ourselves (e.g. a person who is usually extremely lean and fit but gains 10 pounds may feel awful about their body, but complaining about it to her friend who has spent a lifetime battling obesity just seems a recipe for ill will). How judgmental are you about other people’s bodies? More or less judgmental than you are about your own? Does it make any sense to feel actual shame about a body part, something that doesn’t reveal anything about your true character? Do you feel it anyway? Leave me a reply and let me know: How do you feel about your reflection?

The real you is beautiful,

William

P.S. If this letter helped you to know yourself a little better or think in a new way, pass it on. Thank you for your support!

New Year’s Excuses

DSC_0891“The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bulls@#t story you keep telling yourself as to why you can’t achieve it.” –Jordan Belfort

Hello friend,

Happy New Year! It is that time again. Time for the symbolic “do-over” we all receive every January. A chance to start fresh. A chance to do better. A chance to finally do what you—and perhaps your nagging partner—have known that you needed to do for a long time. It is RESOLUTION TIME!!! 

I have never been much for New Year’s resolutions. Up until two years ago, I stubbornly ignored the prospect altogether. I think it is because I always associated it with giving something up, like candy or soda. That didn’t sound like any fun to me. There is also my lifelong aversion to limitations. I cannot stand to be restrained in any way, and my narrow idea of resolutions saw them holding me back. For example, if my New Year’s resolution was to lose ten pounds and I did that by June, what did that leave for the rest of the year? So, I never bothered with a resolution.

As 2013 commenced, I changed my perspective on resolutions a bit and decided it would be good for me to challenge myself. So, I made a Daily To-Do List, which included several items that I wanted to not simply do once and be done with for the year, but to do every day of the year (see my post “Your Everyday To-Do List” from May 2014). I kept that priority list posted on my vanity and desk; it reminded me—or perhaps shamed me, I am not sure which—into acting better. I liked that. Did I get to them all every day, or even most days? Not exactly. Some of them became solid habits and mindsets, but a couple of them just never latched onto my daily routine. Still, that, for me, was a positive spin on resolution-making.

Whenever I think about things like goals, aspirations, agendas, or resolutions, I always find it more helpful to couch the question in terms of how I want to feel rather than what I want to do? I ask myself how I want to feel this year. The answer provides the soil for my seeds of resolution. This year, I want to feel impassioned, healthy & energized, challenged, of service, creative, impactful, at peace, nurturing, clear, and like I am growing. With those things clear in my heart and mind, I can then ask the follow-up question: “What can I DO to help me feel the way I want to feel?” The answer to this question is crucial. It is the packet of seeds to plant in the well-prepared soil. When the two are mixed and carefully tended, how can I possibly go wrong? I am sure to flourish this year. Right?

Well, maybe there is more to it. Gardens tend to grow weeds, too, and those weeds can suffocate even the most beautiful flowers. In the garden of resolutions, the weeds are excuses. Born from self-doubt, excuses suffocate us in two treacherous ways. First, they strike down our visions for a better life. Before we even make our list of goals or resolutions, they tell us why we have no business dreaming so big, that we should set our sights on something lower and more “realistic”, and that our past is a perfect indication of the limits of our future. “Think small, dream small, and you won’t be so disappointed,” they say. Second, excuses offer us a crutch for the goals or resolutions we don’t achieve. They make it someone else’s fault. They allow us to accept less because, after all, it is out of our hands. They give us a pass and don’t ask us to look in the mirror to make sure we really challenged ourselves, really did all we could, and really didn’t accept less than our very best. Then that general, Self-doubt, and its infantry of Excuses really muddy the waters by mixing the lowered expectations with a free pass for not meeting them. In the end, we are left with low self-esteem and the visual evidence for why it should be that way. It is a cancerous environment. Weeds!

I have felt the poison of self-doubt and excuses creep into my own process this year. As the New Year has crept closer, I have been pondering the way I want to feel and thus the way I want to live and the things I want to accomplish. It is ambitious stuff, no doubt. I set my sights high in many areas that matter most to me, such as quality time spent with my family, career transitions and aspirations, writing projects, personal enrichment challenges, and finally, health and fitness. And while I have felt the self-doubt and excuses rise up to challenge me on all fronts, I have been especially aware of them in the health and fitness category this year.

Feeling—and, I admit, looking—healthy, lean, and energetic have always been very important to me. I think I came to Earth with this drive, the same way others arrive with an innate drive to cook, race things, or heal people. Most years, I have not even been aware of my drive for fitness and how much I value it, as it has come relatively easily. I have been reasonably fit all my life, and when I am not able to exercise, or if I feel like I am losing the look or feel of an athletic body, I become quite frustrated and disappointed with myself. So, as I have been envisioning a lean, vibrant, and athletic body carrying me through the coming year, I have been extremely aware of an unusually strong barrage of self-doubt-driven excuses hurling themselves at me. I am now questioning what I once took for granted.

Over the past couple of years—my 40s, argh–I have become increasingly aware of belly fat. Maybe it was there before and I was just better at denial, but these days it seems I am painfully aware of its presence. I know that it is winning the war over my mind when I start to think that maybe I won’t ever lose it, that it is part of me, not just something a few weeks of running will take care of.   (Cue the depressing music) 

That running speaks to my second big doubt/excuse. This Fall, for the first time in ages, I did not have a gym membership and thus took up running outdoors for my cardiovascular fitness. I was doing weights at home and figured I could be fitter than ever with a few times per week of running. Heck, I was even preparing my mind to become a Winter runner, braving the frigid cold and wind for the sake of my health. I was committed! Then, just a few weeks into my routine and getting hooked (and fit), I pulled my calf muscle. It was devastating and frustrating simultaneously. Those feelings were multiplied in the weeks and months that followed, as each time I gave it a few weeks to heal and then tried to run again, the muscle popped.   Over and over. Then, on my first full run with it feeling solid, the other leg did the same thing. Pop! “#@$&!!!!” So the process started over. Over and over again. My wife has said numerous times, “It is your body telling you that you can’t run anymore. Ever.” I really don’t want to believe that, but somehow my self-doubt has latched onto that comment and ridden it all the way into my psyche.   (Cue the extra-depressing music) 

With my ever-softening belly and my useless legs as background, I entered this little break for the holidays still doing my best to keep the excuses for an unhealthy, low-energy year at bay. I planned to get a little exercise while on vacation and build some momentum heading into the New Year. Then I proceeded to catch a bug that laid me out for my entire vacation. I was feverish, weak, and in pain. And, oh yeah, very frustrated. It felt like one last joke my body was playing on me for the year, just so I don’t get my hopes up and generate some real aspirations for next year.

It was lots of ammunition against my ambitions for a healthy, fit, and active body. My excuses are right there for me. I am getting old, maybe too old to stop the slide. My muscles can no longer hold up to vigorous exercise. And any little microorganism can knock me out for a week, further diminishing my muscle tone and lung capacity. I am a wreck!   A wreck with excuses.

But stronger than any excuse is the choice to NOT use it. Those all seem like pretty good excuses for me to give myself a pass on getting back to fitness this year. But I choose to reject them. I am going to choose a different attitude, one that will make it easier to choose action steps that work for my values. I am going to choose to get back on the weights, figure out a cardiovascular option that works for me and my injuries, implement yoga, and eat better than I have before. I love The Gift of Choice! Instead of choosing excuses for the New Year, I am choosing ME.

How about you? What are your excuses for the coming year? Open up your journal and write out all of the things you think are holding you back from living your best life this year. What does your best life look like? What do you see yourself doing? What new habits would you like to add to your lifestyle and schedule? What things are dragging you down and need to be reduced or eliminated from your life? Who do you want to spend more time with? Less time with? How do you want to BE? What activities make you feel the way you want to feel? Can you see yourself really living the life you imagine? Okay, so what is keeping you from taking the steps to live that life? What stories are you telling yourself about why you can’t have that life? How long have you been telling yourself these stories? How is that working for you so far? Maybe it is time to tell yourself a new story. One with more dreams and fewer excuses, more passion and less self-doubt. I would love to hear that story. Leave me a reply and let me know: What is your New Year’s story?

The best time is now,

William