I have cellulite

I have cellulite.

I have little extra pinch around my waist.

I have small breasts.

I have stretch marks.

I overcame an eating disorder when I was seventeen.

I am a damn good cook.

I am a writer.

I can lift heavy.

I am proud of myself.

And dammit I like fries.

When asked to list things about ourselves, we will automatically go to the negative. We will give a list of qualities or descriptions that we don’t like. Why? Were we raised to do that? Could be. But you can’t tell me that this large of a population of women were all raised to do it. It might not have anything to do with parenting, or the people that we were around, but it has everything to do with society. Society makes us feel like we are not good enough. I spent years looking in the mirror seeing something that no one else saw. And it came to a point where I made the choice to give society the finger, be brave and get better. Enough is enough. I started a list of things that I thought society didn’t like about me and ended it with things that I thought made me who I am. But I just gave you a list of things about me, either about my appearance, the battles that I have fought or the talents that I have. I didn’t give you my full story, you can’t tell me my full story based on the things that society deems inappropriate or taboo or unattractive.

So yes, I have cellulite and I do not have a six pack or anything close to it. I love to workout and cook; I love feeding my body foods that are healthy and nutritious. I don’t love it when I go out with family or friends and feel ashamed for my choices, regardless of which one I make. If I choose the healthy option, there is a comment about how that is no way to live a life, and if I choose unhealthy, my lifestyle choices are in question again, because I am supposed to be some “health guru”.

Why are women always sucked into this constant loop? Made to feel ashamed of what we look like or eat, made to feel ashamed for being brave. Because we are a threat. Women are a collective of masterminds that I wouldn’t want to get in the way of. So, what better way to get rid of a mastermind than to raise them to feel like they are worthless.  

I posted a picture of my stomach on Instagram today. The post is the top of this blog. And I hesitated. The photo is in black and white, I had just finished doing an amazing yoga sequence and I felt good. I took the picture and felt the need to nitpick all the things wrong. I stopped myself. Here is a picture of someone who just finished moving their body, doing something that is not only physically healthy, but also a way to keep the mind healthy and at peace, and the thing that I was about to do after taking the photo was going to ruin that. So, I posted it. To open the discussion on why the automatic reaction after taking a photo is to nitpick, or that we don’t even want to be in a picture at all. It’s hard and sometimes we must be brave.