Happy International Women's Day!
"This is the female form,
A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,
It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction...
Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest,
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul..."
- Walt Whitman, "I Sing the Body Electric"
Whitman knew how to celebrate the human form. He saw the body as a physical manifestation and celebration of the internal self. To him, it was inextricably linked to the soul. And, in a time where men were much shittier to women than they are today, he revered women as carriers of life. But he didn't try to disentangle them from their expressions of sexuality. He understood that we'd be remiss to unyoke sensuality from the bodily experience.
As for me? I hold gratitude for my body and the way it allows me to move through the world in various states of being. I'm bored of the idea that I have to fit into a box and be one thing. I don’t subscribe to this. I’m tired of the notion that being a fairly typical size 6 means I‘ve somehow let my younger size 2 former self down. I'm tired of this need we have to erase women’s sexuality or their worth in a bathing suit just because they grow older or become mothers or change sizes. I love admiring confident women of all shapes and sizes, how they just own themselves completely. I wish it hadn‘t taken me so long to do the same.
I suppose I should apologize for posting a 'thirst trap' here. After all, women are conditioned to apologize for our bodies and our sexuality all the time, it's nothing new. But there's a deeper intention of this post. I'm headed for warmer skies on a family vacation this week, and in all honesty, I've been feeling a bit anxious. Slightly triggered by the fact that maybe my body isn't in its 'peak' form for bathing suit weather at this point in time. Seems ridiculous, I know. It's a body and it deserves to be in a bathing suit. Those are the only two requirements, full stop. I've been trying to be compassionate towards myself in this regard. I'm in my last semester of school, so I'm extra busy and I'm definitely more sedentary as of late. But in general, I don't let little fluctuations in weight bother me. In fact, I felt sexiest when I was at my heaviest weight while growing a human inside of me.
Pregnancy aside, I've become much more confident in my skin in recent years too. This was a shift that occurred by stepping in to my thirties and gaining a deeper appreciation for all the things this vessel has done for me. I had to stop engaging in self-loathing simply because that's what women are conditioned to do. Truthfully, I like my naked form. This is the only body I have, and aside from some questionable tattoos and the odd wild drinking night, I've treated her pretty well.
I don't know why we still need to punch women down for embracing their sexuality and bodily confidence. I don't understand why the entire process of validating our bodies has to be so externalized either, hinging so much on the opinions of others. The way we see ourselves as women has been filtered through the ever-shifting expectations of society and the eyes of men. Even though our bodies weren't made for them. This is the cost of living in a society that profits off of our shame. A patriarchy that tells us where on the spectrum of worth we belong. I know I'm privileged. I'm neither thin nor heavy-set. Instead, I'm voluptuous yet petite. A walking contradiction. I get to be mildly annoyed about 5 to 10 pounds of extra softness, but not overly concerned.
Of course, I used to care more. It seems we always have to get the approval of others before we can move forward into acceptance. Even then, it's conditional and surface level. We like ourselves until our body changes or someone makes us feel lesser than, and then we don't. But I'm consciously trying to reject being pulled into this because it just contributes to feelings of lack. And it's dangerous to fall into that trap. If we dress too casual or sloppy, we're letting ourselves go. If we dress too provocatively, we want attention. If we're a mom wearing a bathing suit showing off our curves at the beach, we're betraying our age and life status and sending the wrong message. I just won't do it any longer. I just can't give a shit.
When you become a mom, you give birth to a child and to a transformed self. A self who fully and completely nurtures others at her own expense. You're applauded for this by society at large, but then quickly provided various methods to lose the baby weight. Targeted ads. MLM moms in the inbox with the dreaded "hey, hun. It's been awhile since high school, but I saw you just had a baby and..."
If I wanted to only drink smoothies three times a day and emit the smells of someone on a keto diet, I'd do it okay? But I won't.
You're told you need to level up. At this rate I should be at the medispa on a monthly basis getting all sorts of work done to myself. I should be working harder on my fitness instead of chasing my son around the cul-de-sac. I should be getting my shit together and keeping the house neat and tidy instead of helping him build Lego and crafting make-believe stories about magical universes under a pile of blankets. I should be freezing my fat cells to smooth out a couple of the stubborn dimples on my thighs. But also, try not to be too sexy okay? You're a mother after all. The mixed messages are intense.
It's no secret that you're expected to relinquish your sensuality in motherhood. Its not that it's gone. It's just supposed to go into hiding. God forbid a mother, or a wife for that matter, embrace her sensuality beyond the confines of the bedroom. But expecting women to abandon their pre-domesticated selves is unnatural. As women, we're forever told what boxes to fit in. This just doesn't sit right for me. I'm untamable that way. Being provocative, erudite, and emotionally expressive are characteristics that have long defined me. I want to embody them all at once. That's what feels good for me. Sadly, I drive a van, so I'm pretty sure most of my sex appeal is eviscerated by that fact alone. Jokes aside, I'm not sure why women aren't allowed to be nurturing, cerebral, and sensual simultaneously. You can't unyoke that stuff. It would make for a very bland portrait of a human being.
My kids know me as 'mom', and this is obviously a large part of my identity. But is it the only thing? I don't think so. I've sacrificed a lot for them. But that sacrifice didn't include giving myself up entirely. I want them to see that women in all stages of life are beautiful, sexy, and strong. I want them to see me embodying joy, speaking up when I want to, and remembering who I am. Embracing my whole self. Even if that self feels slightly out of step right now. I want them to experience an unencumbered mother splashing and laughing alongside them in a bathing suit, even if it looks and feels just a smidge too tight right now. I want them to see me soft and not worried about getting the perfect angles in photos, not shaming myself or lamenting that I wish I had worked harder to lose those five pounds. I want them to see me giving myself love and grace. I want them to know I felt confident and happy in my skin regardless of the physical, mental and emotional fluctuations I've gone through. That together we went down water slides, on hikes and across zip lines because this healthy body allowed me to. That I enjoyed my body and all of the adventures it allowed me to have with them.
And most of all, I want them to know that I didn't lose myself.