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How To Appreciate Your Body and Stop Obsessing Over Your “Problem” Areas
After struggling with her weight and overall health, Robyn Downs joined barre3 and lost more than 50 pounds. She now shares what she’s learned with Real Food Whole Life, a blog dedicated to making healthy living and eating simple and inspiring.
My daughter has my favorite belly. It’s round and kissable in the most perfect 3-year-old kind of way. Every time I catch a glimpse I can’t help but exclaim, “there’s my favorite belly!” The comment has become so ubiquitous in our house that most evenings before bath she’ll pull up her shirt and say, “look Mama, your favorite belly!”
It’s no surprise, then, that recently she’s taken to pointing at my stomach and saying, “look mama, it’s my favorite belly!” Her sincerity and love makes my mama heart explode, but the focus on my midsection also makes me cringe a little inside. I want to love my belly as much as she does, to see it through her eyes, but most days I struggle to feel the belly love.
Overall, I actually like my body. It’s strong, healthy, and active. The parts that mortified me in the teenage years—my above-average height and curves, for example—I now see as assets. My body allowed me to carry my 10-pound baby girl through pregnancy, a gift for which I will be forever grateful. But three and a half years after giving birth, it still protrudes far more than I would like. It’s not flat, and I don’t think it ever will be. There are so many other parts of myself that I love, yet I insist on obsessing over my belly. Sound familiar?
So many of us choose one “imperfect” body part and fixate on it. For some of us it’s our bellies, while others can’t stand their “stubborn” thighs or curvy hips. I know men who devote entire gym sessions to building up their calves. It all comes down to body image and self-acceptance—complicated and messy issues. I (usually) know better than to compare myself to glossy images of unachievable, retouched beauty in the media. And when I see other women, I don’t fixate on how they look, nor do I compare myself to them. Flat stomach or abundant belly, I accept them for who they are. So why can’t I accept myself?
It’s in my nature to want to do well at everything I take on. I’ve always believed that if I work hard enough for something, I’ll get it. And for the most part, that’s been true. If I wanted to do well in school, I studied. If I wanted to get a promotion at work, I strived to excel at my job. After my daughter was born, I was unhappy with my weight and overall health and energy level. When I discovered barre3 it was like a light bulb went off, and I soon came to fully embrace the lifestyle. Since then I’ve lost weight (over 50 pounds!) and most importantly gained strength and a commitment to living well. But even with all my hard work and commitment, I still have a belly, and it still bothers me. What happened to the hard-work-brings-success formula I’ve always relied on?
This past month we took a family vacation. I’m not a fan of wearing a swimsuit, but I didn’t want to miss out so I sucked it up and spent the majority of the time in the water. At the end of the trip we were reviewing photos and came across two of me, one in the pool and one in a kayak. In the first I was leaning over to catch my daughter as she swam between my husband and me. In the second I was paddling my daughter around a small lake in a kayak. Can you guess what the first thing I saw in both the photos? That’s right, my belly. And I didn’t like what I saw.
After a few moments I got control of my inner-critic and focused on the real images in the photos. A strong mama playing with her girl and fully participating in a family vacation. But I couldn’t get the belly image out of my head, and I spent the next few hours alternating between feeling bad about my belly and then getting mad at myself for feeling bad. It’s a vicious—and unproductive—cycle, but I find myself caught in it again and again.
So what can I do to break the cycle? The on-trend answer would be to practice self-love, to embrace whatever it is you’re spending so much mental energy hating. But honestly, this only makes me feel worse. Put simply, I’m probably not ever going to love this belly—which means that if I try to go the self-love route, suddenly not only am I failing at getting the flat belly I want, I’m also failing at loving the belly I have. It’s like a one-two punch.
Instead I’m going with an approach that feels more honest to me. It came to me when I was thinking about my daughter and wondering what I’d say to her if, one day, she decides that something about her body is less than perfect. I’d tell her to be as kind to herself as possible. So, rather than force (or fake) the belly love, I’m simply going to work on being kind to myself. I’ll continue to exercise every day and eat clean, and if the belly sticks around, I’m not going to beat myself up over it. Because deep down I know—as we all do—that healthy living isn’t about achieving the perfect abs (or arms or butt or whatever your target happens to be). It’s about being the healthiest, happiest version of yourself—and that’s such a richer reward than even the flattest belly could ever be.
Is there a “problem area” of your body that you fixate on? What are your strategies for accepting yourself as you are?
Photos by Elizabeth Sattelberger of © lizilu Photography
After struggling with her weight and overall health, Robyn Downs joined barre3 and lost more than 50 pounds. She now shares what she’s learned with Real Food Whole Life, a blog dedicated to making healthy living and eating simple and inspiring.
My daughter has my favorite belly. It’s round and kissable in the most perfect 3-year-old kind of way. Every time I catch a glimpse I can’t help but exclaim, “there’s my favorite belly!” The comment has become so ubiquitous in our house that most evenings before bath she’ll pull up her shirt and say, “look Mama, your favorite belly!”
It’s no surprise, then, that recently she’s taken to pointing at my stomach and saying, “look mama, it’s my favorite belly!” Her sincerity and love makes my mama heart explode, but the focus on my midsection also makes me cringe a little inside. I want to love my belly as much as she does, to see it through her eyes, but most days I struggle to feel the belly love.
Overall, I actually like my body. It’s strong, healthy, and active. The parts that mortified me in the teenage years—my above-average height and curves, for example—I now see as assets. My body allowed me to carry my 10-pound baby girl through pregnancy, a gift for which I will be forever grateful. But three and a half years after giving birth, it still protrudes far more than I would like. It’s not flat, and I don’t think it ever will be. There are so many other parts of myself that I love, yet I insist on obsessing over my belly. Sound familiar?
So many of us choose one “imperfect” body part and fixate on it. For some of us it’s our bellies, while others can’t stand their “stubborn” thighs or curvy hips. I know men who devote entire gym sessions to building up their calves. It all comes down to body image and self-acceptance—complicated and messy issues. I (usually) know better than to compare myself to glossy images of unachievable, retouched beauty in the media. And when I see other women, I don’t fixate on how they look, nor do I compare myself to them. Flat stomach or abundant belly, I accept them for who they are. So why can’t I accept myself?
It’s in my nature to want to do well at everything I take on. I’ve always believed that if I work hard enough for something, I’ll get it. And for the most part, that’s been true. If I wanted to do well in school, I studied. If I wanted to get a promotion at work, I strived to excel at my job. After my daughter was born, I was unhappy with my weight and overall health and energy level. When I discovered barre3 it was like a light bulb went off, and I soon came to fully embrace the lifestyle. Since then I’ve lost weight (over 50 pounds!) and most importantly gained strength and a commitment to living well. But even with all my hard work and commitment, I still have a belly, and it still bothers me. What happened to the hard-work-brings-success formula I’ve always relied on?
This past month we took a family vacation. I’m not a fan of wearing a swimsuit, but I didn’t want to miss out so I sucked it up and spent the majority of the time in the water. At the end of the trip we were reviewing photos and came across two of me, one in the pool and one in a kayak. In the first I was leaning over to catch my daughter as she swam between my husband and me. In the second I was paddling my daughter around a small lake in a kayak. Can you guess what the first thing I saw in both the photos? That’s right, my belly. And I didn’t like what I saw.
After a few moments I got control of my inner-critic and focused on the real images in the photos. A strong mama playing with her girl and fully participating in a family vacation. But I couldn’t get the belly image out of my head, and I spent the next few hours alternating between feeling bad about my belly and then getting mad at myself for feeling bad. It’s a vicious—and unproductive—cycle, but I find myself caught in it again and again.
So what can I do to break the cycle? The on-trend answer would be to practice self-love, to embrace whatever it is you’re spending so much mental energy hating. But honestly, this only makes me feel worse. Put simply, I’m probably not ever going to love this belly—which means that if I try to go the self-love route, suddenly not only am I failing at getting the flat belly I want, I’m also failing at loving the belly I have. It’s like a one-two punch.
Instead I’m going with an approach that feels more honest to me. It came to me when I was thinking about my daughter and wondering what I’d say to her if, one day, she decides that something about her body is less than perfect. I’d tell her to be as kind to herself as possible. So, rather than force (or fake) the belly love, I’m simply going to work on being kind to myself. I’ll continue to exercise every day and eat clean, and if the belly sticks around, I’m not going to beat myself up over it. Because deep down I know—as we all do—that healthy living isn’t about achieving the perfect abs (or arms or butt or whatever your target happens to be). It’s about being the healthiest, happiest version of yourself—and that’s such a richer reward than even the flattest belly could ever be.
Is there a “problem area” of your body that you fixate on? What are your strategies for accepting yourself as you are?
Photos by Elizabeth Sattelberger of © lizilu Photography
