A Letter to my Body: Revisited

In 2021 we shared A Letter to My Body, a letter written by one of our team about her journey to appreciate her body after recovering from an eating disorder. Now, a year later, she has revisited this letter to continue to document and share her dialogue with her body.

A Letter to my Body: Revisited

I used to see my body as a vessel. That way, I would not have to take personal responsibility and ownership for what it looks like. It was a way of diverting my attention from my body by disconnecting it from my being. I was not my body. It was only the carrier of my mind.

At a time where my mind and body were at odds, as I was being re-fed and renourished after an eating disorder, this view of my body was helpful. It meant that the changes that were happening to my body, that were distressing and unbearable, were not happening to me directly. Whilst this view aided in getting me physically healthy, in the long term, it was completely unsustainable.

Whenever I would look in the mirror, the figure staring back at me was not me. I did not like the way my body looked, so I tried to protect my mind by not associating it with my body. This view of my body was not loving. I looked at myself with the same care as my car. Something that was not physically aesthetic but it got the job done, and for that I should be grateful. Like a car, I treated my body by doing the bare minimum, giving it fuel and keeping it clean. But my body was not like a car. It is not replaceable.

Restoring the connection between my body and myself, beyond the material link, is not something that I find easy. Unlearning a strategy that helped me heal feels as if I am stepping backwards, further into a state of unbearable hatred for my body. But I long for the days where I can look at myself and claim me for all my beauty. Claim the rolls I squeezed so hard I would cry from the pain and the way they filled up my hands. Claim the thighs that rub together when I walk and jiggle when I run. Claim the face that I tried to hide, as if others knowing what I looked like would make me any less of a person.

It is time that I look at my body and know that that is me. That as much as I tried to avoid it, my body is unmistakably mine. It is not just what my body allows me to do that makes it beautiful. It is my body itself. And for that it deserves to be loved and cared for as valuable.