Entry Sixteen

This newsletter has made it to its sweet sixteen! Sixteen outgoing messages, and I couldn't be more proud. PSA: let yourself cheerfully declare a win no matter how small.

Today’s post touches again on belonging to my body. Reading these words months later was difficult. Honestly, I didn’t want to share it, which quickly made me realize that I need to hit send. Being self-aware can be aggravating sometimes, right? 

Jokes aside, I thought to myself, I don’t want to post that, because I didn’t want it to be seen as I am that. This is why 90 Days of Belonging has been a revelation for me. It lets me re-visit, release, and rebound from complex stories and delicate emotions. I needed to read what I wrote and know that in that moment, I was allowing something to move through me, not identify me. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: it takes courage to recognize shame, and love yourself through it.

I hope today gives you the boldness to go to the places you haven’t been, and acknowledge the places you didn’t know could feel pain. Because guess what? You might find something beautiful there, too.

March 7th, 2022:

I spent years of my life wanting to make my body look like something else. I would be lying if I said part of me still doesn't wish it could be a tad different. I taught myself how to look for things to criticize. To always find what is wrong, and not what belongs to me. It can take effort to intentionally look for what you find darling. To see a treasure, instead of a drawback. Not wanting to be in your body is one of the heaviest feelings I am too familiar with. Chasing what I think will make me feel better, instead of learning to love what I have been gifted. I treated my body as if we were on a separate team. That we didn't belong together. Right now it feels like it has a vendetta against me, when I am the one holding the grudge. Former years were spent believing, “okay when I look like this, then I will be happy.” This notion can be applied to anything. We are certain that once we have this thing, we will feel fabulous. The problem is, my dedication to making this change only resulted in fleeting moments of joy until I found something else to fixate on. It’s a trap. A race to the bottom. My precious body that I hope will help me expand our family has been one of the most tumultuous relationships I’ve ever had. I’m almost certain it began with early violating childhood events, but that wasn’t a conscious connection I made until my early thirties. 

I have memories of comfort eating since I was a child. Probably due to the above mentioned manipulative experiences. I’ve received professional help, but my coping mechanisms at times still present themselves. I project my love, sorrow, and rules to the way I look. Have I made progress? Absolutely. Do I have more love to give to me? Forever. I used to be so comfortable using my body as a distraction to punish myself rather than freeing the little girl in me. I’m familiar with self rejection as a motivator to become something different. I am grateful that my journey led me to finally be more curious. I began to wonder what would I do if I could simply look in the mirror and not try and scrutinize something? Observation without hyper examination. To release the need to try and measure my worth. Is my power not boundless? It can not be calculated, and yet there are days where I am constantly doing the math hoping for a different answer. Thinking this will be the day I get the perfect result. An answer that will make me feel like a winner. An answer that will say “you did it. You can move on.” 

Even though I now belong in a different cycle, sometimes I find comfort in fantasizing about the old one. Today, however, is a reminder that I want to continue a softer conversation with myself. A kinder gaze. A home where my body does not receive the blame for the tall tales I have been repeating. Today it feels less hopeful than it did two days ago. The difference is I’m willing to tend to this wound rather than annihilate it. I’m open to a new way of loving rather than condemning. 

Even when I am in pain, I can still believe I am worth it.

I want to hear from you! Leave your reflections of belonging after the beep. 

Better Call Salwa: 347-903-7057

In the meantime, what will you applaud rather than denounce?