Showing posts with label body image. Show all posts
Showing posts with label body image. Show all posts

Monday, January 21, 2013

on the scale (full well)

me on the left, friend in the center and my twin on the right
c. 1978 (an era of confidence)
i liked myself as a child
you know, 
before adolescence and an awareness
of
others
it was maybe fourth grade when
i began building this 
ramshackle self-image
on the shoddy foundation
of the world's eye
that saw 
stringy hair, ruddy complexion, 
spectacles and old clothes
in my thirties
i befriended 
the scale, the world's voice
fluent in lies as well as numbers
she interprets weights and assigns blame
she dictates our days and strips us of self-worth
she is power
(if we allow it)
and i fell for it
the husband, moms, sisters, doctors wanted me to know
what david-god's-beloved knew....
he had a heart tuned to 
god's eye 
god's voice
and he sang
i praise you because i am 
fearfully and wonderfully 
made;
your works are wonderful, 
know that full well
this breath-taking verse revisited yesterday
and i retucked it into memory
for when the world tries to speak
and i need her to 
hush

so, what is your relationship to the scale? 

continuing to count his gifts to 1000-

908. sunshine after four days of....not
909. a sweet note from a student
910. an email from a friend of a different season....coffee to come
911. snow-in-the-south - 3 inches!!!!
912. an hour and a half in the car with my husband after his trip to jamaica
913. blankets
914. the heatable rice sack i put in my bed each night = warm feet
915. my girl, the one i mentor, who made me the rice sack
916. watching the sun rise....right.now.

linking with -

michelle for hear it monday, use it on sunday, ann for 1000 gifts, emily for tuesdays unwrapped,

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

women and the desire to be "er"

this post-it note hung on my mirror for years
chris preserved it for me in a shadow box
my boys count their
scars with pride
twelve just on my left leg
and crooked fingers are to covet
i broke this one in 7th grade football
but women and girls
wish
noses were cuter
skin clearer
eyes a deeper hue
waists smaller
legs thinner
hair straighter, curlier, lighter, darker
and
this desire to be er
is not a god idea
he
formed my inward parts
and knitted me together
when we stare ourselves down
wishing to be er
we are
berating
god

how do we break this cycle of self-loathing and become women who praise him for his wonderful works? i really want to know.

linking with:

emily for imperfect prose
jen for god bumps
joy for life:unmasked
seeds of faith for #ifellowship