Love is a battlefield

It all started while driving...as it often does with me.  Windows down, perfect sunny day....Ms. Benatar & I were doing a killer rendition of her 80's hit Love is a Battlefield....when it hit me...love IS a battlefield...& not just when another person is involved.

Loving & appreciating my nature has come with limited challenges...believing myself to be a kind person there has not been very much self-doubt in this area. Now, I am not so arrogant as to dismiss the reality that I have done some pretty awful things...I have made choices & said things that have hurt people I love. By & large there has been more kind than awful & more caring than hurtful in my exchanges with people...with one glaring exception.

~no sh*t~

As a life long plumpy, my relationship with my body has been....tumultuous.  I have considered myself cute...even pretty.  But beautiful...desirable...or completely comfortable in my own skin?  Not so much. As a result, I have regularly reminded myself that beauty is a matter of the soul....not the body.  Mostly, this has been a way to survive...without totally loathing the vessel that carries my soul through this life.  Which, upon reflection makes me really sad....& pissed off.

It would be convenient to say that this is the result of something my family did or did not do or say. Or I could launch into a diatribe about the social conditioning that we are all subjected to our whole lives limiting our ideas about beauty. But for some reason, that feels like a cop out. There is no doubt that the external environment has been a powerful influence, but the truth is, somewhere along the way...I abandoned loving my body. The inner dialogue shifted & even though I knew it was happening...even though I knew it was bullshit...I did not fight...I gave in.

~there it is~

Having lived abroad for two years, my perspective of physical beauty has shifted.  Being removed from the constant barrage of images & talk of beauty standards gave me the space to not think about my body in terms of what is lacking.  Not having access to a full length mirror on a daily basis gave me the freedom to feel differently about my body.  I became vastly aware of all the things my body does everyday...regardless of how I look.  It was the first time, since my childhood, that I can remember NOT battling with my body...or rather, my feelings about my body.

There is so much chatter around what is beautiful & desirable, most of which has very little to do with what is beautiful & desirable...in my opinion.  Endless conversations about women; our skin, weight, hair, clothes & the never ending focus on vanishing, hiding, reducing & melting...whether it is pounds or wrinkles or grey hair.  As if these are the things that really matter. Yet somehow these external characteristics often become the focus of who a woman is...while the truly magnificent aspects of her are absent from the conversation.  

~if only~

Thinking of all the beauties that I love, the color of their hair or the number on the scale have never been part of why I love them....not even once.  At times, I witness these gorgeous creatures struggling with their own sense of beauty...& I remember that kindness is curative...for all of us.  I allow my love for them to flow...showing them how I see them...because really, that is what this is all about....being seen.

~friendly reminder from Hafiz~

We are made of so many different things....our bodies, ideas, humor, talents, challenges...all manner of elements mixing together culminating to create unique beings & we crave connection.  We search for others that challenge us, thrill us & see us. When we stumble upon a kindred spirit...someone who looks on us with kind, loving & familiar eyes...we connect...not only with them, but with ourselves.  They help us remember to be kind to ourselves...to look upon ourselves with loving eyes.  How can someone that does that be anything but beautiful?