Good evening everyone,
Again, my apologies for another late blog post, today was another crazy day.
So, if you all remember, exactly a month ago to this day, I wrote a post about my cousin’s Bat Mitzvah, and how consumed I was by Ed the whole time we were taking pictures, because I hated the way I looked in my dress.
I remember writing about how I said a prayer for myself that night in temple, asking God to give me the strength to love myself enough to stop being so hard on myself and to have fun and be present with my family during that special day.
I was present after that, and it was an incredible night afterwards.
Tonight, my aunt and cousin came over to look at the pictures from the Bat Mitzvah.
I knew they were coming over since yesterday, and from the very beginning, I was anxious about it.
I already wasn’t having the greatest day today with how I felt about my body, and I wasn’t sure what would happen to me if I looked at those pictures today; pictures that I know I felt so uncomfortable in my own skin while taking.
Would I still think I looked fat? Would I think I didn’t look as bad? I wasn’t sure, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
If I didn’t look at them, would it be letting Ed win, or would it be self-care?
After talking with E, I decided that I wanted to look at them. I wanted to take this moment to reflect back on that night with my family, and Ed was not going to ruin yet another family moment for me.
So, we started looking at the pictures after we ate dinner (my aunt, my cousin, and my grandma and I).
“I have fat arms,” my aunt said.
“Oh, the lady will have to crop out my double chin,” my grandma said.
“I have a fat face in almost every picture,” I said.
Well, look at that.
Turns out, I am not the only one with insecurities about the way I look.
I can sit here and say that we should all love ourselves and the way we look all the time, but that is not reality.
Even though I don’t think my aunt’s arms looked fat, and I don’t think my grandma’s chin looked bad, they saw what they saw.
And even though they thought my face didn’t look fat, I saw what I saw.
We all have our own perceptions of how we see ourselves.
I am not saying it was good that we all didn’t like things about the way we looked, but it is kind of nice to realize that everyone has their own body insecurities and everyone has days or dresses or body parts that they don’t always love, and that I don’t need to hate myself for not liking my body that day.
That day is gone. That moment is gone.
And instead, a new moment came, where we all sat down, made jokes about our arms or faces, laughed about it and moved on.
I think that is pretty great.
And on another positive note, out of all those minutes I spent hating my body that day, specifically my stomach, the thing I thought looked the “fattest” in those pictures was my face.
Um…yeah, my face.
Not even a body part.
It’s funny how our mind plays tricks on us sometimes, and I guess the lesson tonight was, the only thing we can do is laugh about it.
If there is a day or second we don’t like the way we look, it’s better to get it off our chest and laugh, like my aunt, grandma and I did today, than to internalize it and criticize ourselves for it.
But mostly, I still can’t believe that I thought my face was fat.
All that time staring at my stomach in the mirror at the Bat Mitzvah, and now, I look at my face.
Oh Ed…the mind games you play.
But, after all, it’s just a face, right?
My aunt’s arms are just arms.
My grandma’s chin is just a chin.
Together as a whole, we are not body parts-we are a family.
And tonight, we bonded as a family, and not only over our insecurities, but over the amazing times we had that night.
I am looking at my face right now in the mirror, and I definitely don’t think it looks fat, so screw you Ed, and hello life.