Last week, Bea brought up body image. I couldn’t talk about it with her then, not really. I sent an email later, and said I was ready to talk about body image, eating, all of it.
This week, on Monday, we didn’t spend much time on body image, but Bea did ask me if I could think of a time when I felt comfortable in my body, happy with what my body could do. She suggested that maybe dance, or gymnastics or horseback riding held a good memory, or playing outside, swimming? She shared a memory she had of running though the grass barefoot, with the wind on her cheeks and the grass tickling her feet.
I tried, but I just kept coming up blank. I felt like I was staring at a giant blank wall. Nothing. Nothing was there. At times, I feel like amnesia girl. Of course, I only told Bea I couldn’t think of anything, not how blank my memory can be. She asked that I just think about it this week, and see if anything came to me.
Monday night, Hubby and I took Kat to the park for a picnic. After we ate, Kat and I ran over to the swings, and we had a race to see who could swing the highest. I used to love to swing when I was a kid. I felt like I could swing far away to the sky, and maybe fly away for good. I don’t really remember a body feeling with it though. I just remember feeling free.
While I stayed on the swings, Kat and Hubby raced up a small hill. When they got to the top, I called to Kat, “Roll down the hill!”
She looked at me like her mama was insane. I remembered though, the fun of rolling downhill, how fast you seemed to go, and the dizziness, the freedom, and the giggles you can’t help but get. And so, I climbed the hill, looked at my daughter and said, “let me show you how it’s done.” Hubby might have had a bit of a concerned look on his face, but he kept his mouth shut. And so, I laid down on the grassy hill, and rolled. I rolled and got dizzy and laughed uncontrollably. And then Kat joined me.
And, as other kids and parents saw and heard our laughter, they joined us, too. Pretty soon, the whole hill was full of families rolling down it, laughing uncontrollably. And no one was worried about being perfect, or what they looked like, they were just enjoying the moment.
I’ve found my memory, of rolling down the hill when I was a child, a good feeling of being connected to my body. Or at least, I *think* I remember being connected to my body then, even if it’s barely. I also have the new memory of rolling downhill with my daughter on Monday, and being in the present and grounded while doing so.