You know, the slower pace of my life has allowed me to really get up close and personal with my life, my body and my "self". Its amazing that when you have a bit more time on your hands you can pay attention to things. Just within the past two weeks I've noticed the striking evolution of my body. Being home in my parents' house all of my old childhood pictures sheds quite a light on the passage of time. Body image is so huge among women and the way we see ourselves its often unbelievable. It is so interesting the way that I viewed my body in my teens and my twenties. I was such a teeny, tiny petite little cutie. Gosh I wish I would've known that then. It's not that I was thin that made me cute back then but the niceness, the rightness, the young optimism in me that could be plainly seen in my eyes. I didn't wear that optimism like a badge of honor back then. I was like many women, unsure of myself as I explored and felt my way through the act of becoming. When you throw into the mix motherhood I was just a little ball of confusion. I stood five feet tall with a couple of inches thrown in for good measure, even after giving birth I was back at my pre pregnancy weight of an embarrassing ninety eight pounds. Many women now glorify the anorexic look but as a Black woman, I hated how I looked. My fineness and fly-ness was nonexistent and I totally hated it. Yes, that's it, I'm finally admitting it "aloud". I absolutely hated how I looked in my twenties. Although I was not a straight up and down skinny dwarf, I had subtle hints of boobies and a thorough genetic gifting of hips. Now, although this was the early '90s when the baggy jeans and baggy TLC look was in, Black women still had lots to fill the baggy jeans up with and I did not. Thinking back now to young twenty something year old Terrea, I had this mousy, uncertain gait. I've always appeared younger than my actual age and because of it I longed to be taken seriously but was confused as to how to do it. Anytime I was out in public with my son I felt self concious because I didn't want to look like the average teenage mother. I dressed conservative and never really experimented very much with clothing, colors and styles. So many people automatically assumed my son was my little brother. Maybe I was unknowingly making an effort to look older. Well, it didn't work at all. In high school, I can recall someone sharing with me that the color black makes you look small, so of course I stayed away from black. I did everything that I could to gain weight, but nothing happened. I did not work out at all because I feared that doing so would work against my weight gain goal. Even pregnancy at nineteen didn't help to give me the voluptuousness I so desired. Looking back I don't believe that I was insecure about my appearance but not enjoying my young womanhood totally. I was exactly where I was supposed to be, yet I was unable to be at peace with myself. I was always on a quest to improve. I did not approve of the body that I had. I was so blessed with lovely things that people would often throw my way that they could no longer wear. Of course I'd gladly accept the gorgeous designer pieces, many of them with price tags still intact. I just could not bring myself to wear any of it. I could not see myself in any of the lovely sundresses because I was too skinny. Remember, skinny was not yet in back then.
Sitting here all comfy in my mother's home among her beloved pictures of Terrea way back when it is now crystal clear to me that I was perfectly fine back then. There was a rightness about who I was that I could not see nor approve of at that time. Wow, I was such a babe, a mousy, little divine babe! I had no idea!! I was clueless to my cuteness. Geesh!! So here I am at forty one with my full grown lady parts and I find myself back in my twenty two year old state of mind. I still have this hilarious way of disapproving of myself, my body, my state of being. Years ago I recall when my aunt came to visit from Atlanta and the observation that she made. After seeing my home for the first time, she commented that based upon my library it looks like I was in a constant state of improvement. I didn't get it at the time because I assumed that she did not get me. It is funny though, every book I owned was about becoming better at something, improving some area of my life. Sitting here today, I finally get it. That was so young woman Terrea. Through my eyes at that time there was always something deficient about me, nothing good enough as is, to simply enjoy. Oh with the passage of time, I still point out all that I perceive as flaws with my body but today after dealing with some "transformative challenges" I think I'd like to make friends with my body first. Yes, before I undertake an adventure to eat better and coax my tummy into submission I'd like to embrace every aspect of myself first. Of course, I should be more active. Of course, I should most certainly alter my eating habits. I am so all aboard with the idea to eliminate some unhealthy eating habits. But before I wage war against my thighs I wanna love 'em!! Twenty years ago I failed to accept and appreciate my form as it was blossoming and today I must take the time to love this body. Its taken me quite a long way. As I've aged my body has begun to tell me some things and I must listen. She wants to simply be loved, cherished and accepted as is for once and right now I am willing to do just that. Certain things do not agree with her, like dairy products but I will not think that she is bad and unloveable because of it. Stress slaps her in the face but I should not scold my beautiful body because she's not friendly with stress. I am willing to listen to her and love her. She responds well to long walks. She whispers her wants to me and then there are times that she screams for what she wants. Lately she's been quite pouty and agitated. Before, she throws an all out hissy fit, I plan to cater to all of her needs, to do more of certain things and less of others. It's high time I become buddy buddy with my body body.
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