Beautiful I am
Lately I feel like two different people. The first feels stronger than ever, beautiful, wise and at peace with herself. The other me has her eyes open looking in a mirror, in shock at what she sees staring back at her.
I am getting older. It’s really happening. I remember my mom complaining about her body, calling herself fat, complaining about her stomach. I remember her talking about getting a face lift. It must have been hard for her to see her daughters becoming senoritas and feeling a little lost in her body. I wish we could sit together and talk about it. I didn’t know how it felt, I didn’t understand then but I do now. The cycle of life. It’s my turn to go through this and with my eyes closed I am that wise woman welcoming these changes-but then I am not. I am resisting, kicking and screaming, looking back at what was, even though that was never enough either.
I remember being in my early twenties and refusing to read a book where the main character was older than thirty. I didn’t want to read about old people! Now here I am way beyond thirty and sometimes it feels as if my body has betrayed me. My body is changing and even as I say it has betrayed me I know it is me that has betrayed my body. I am resisting this natural softening of my body, fighting against it, trying to hold on to my young body, my young self. It’s silly because I know that young body is gone. When I see my daughters and then look at myself I cannot believe how much I have changed. I’m not going to lie. It’s tough. It’s tough to accept this softening. This expanding and contracting happening before my eyes.
It's crazy to still feel like that young child on the first day of kindergarten. The fear, the tears welling in my eyes, my lips quivering, not wanting to be left in that strange place. Holding onto my mother. That little girl is still me. The little girl that skated up and down the street pretending to be an ice skater, or running to school late every day with her brother and sister. Still me. The teenager that color coordinated her outfits everyday and agonized over her hair is still me. The young mother holding her babies, feeling happy, overwhelmed and so, so tired. That young woman is also me.
When I was around 9 years old I took a ballet class at a studio that also had acting and singing and the first day there hearing a girl singing ´Who am I anyway? Am I a resume?´ (from A Chorus Line) and feeling those words deep in my heart. I wanted to know too. Who am I? Still today I always go back to this question, who am I?
Am I my body? Absolutely not. So why is it so important for me to look different than I do now or try to look like I did before, before, before...when in truth I have never completely felt like I am enough. I have continuously looked back to before. When I was thirty I looked back fondly on twenty. When I was in my forties I looked back longingly to when I was thirty and now I am fifty looking back again? No!
Right now I am on a quest to love myself just as I am. Tomorrow is going to be different and next year is going to be different. I am continuously changing and I need to love my body right now. Who cares what it was before? I am stronger physically, mentally and spiritually. The wise woman is me. Why do I resist her? Why do I betray myself by holding on to what is not? Softer around the edges. Can I settle in? Can I welcome this change? Can I embrace this me? Yes I can, I will. I will break this cycle and not continue it. I will not pass this on to my daughters. I will embrace this body right now without exception. There will be hard days, hard moments. I will close my eyes, breathe through them and repeat this mantra: I love myself, my body just as I am right now without exception. Then I will open my eyes as I exhale slowly.
Beautiful I am.
