Listening to the Truth That I Feel

 "You know the truth by the way it feels." ~ Anonymous

In my work life, I spend a lot of time talking about feelings.  How are you feeling? What are you feeling? When did you feel that way?  Why are you feeling that way?  The words I hear from kids are mad, sad, glad, and calm.  Every once in awhile some smarty pants will say furious or elated or, one time, lethargic.  Lately, colleagues will say words like tired, exhausted, overwhelmed, frustrated.  

Those words keep us in the brain.  We approach the state of being as something we can understand logically or with our cerebral strength.  There's nothing inherently wrong with that.  Cultivating a rich vocabulary bank of words to describe emotional states is important.  The problem is that we sort of stop there.  We name the feeling and connect to that feeling with our thinking brain and then move on...sort of.

Sometimes, I try to push kids beyond that.  What does sad feel like?  How does your body experience mad? What sensations tell you that you are frightened?  The response I get is silence for a moment and then a regurgitation of the same feelings words we always use.  Recently, one student responded with some frustration, "Ms. Wossow, I know when I'm sad because I'm sad.  

Okay, then.

I read a book recently that really awakened my desire to become better friends with my body.  Hillary McBride, Ph.D. wrote this book and it really has changed my life.  Or, at least, I think it will change my life.  At the very least, it has prompted me to want to become better friends with my body and understand it a bit better.  She argues that we, through all sorts of problematic norms and practices and cultural beliefs, are taught to become disconnected from our own bodies.  We are taught to ignore the signals our body gives us because apparently, according to the world, they are wrong.  This is especially true for girls, but it happens to all of us.  

Think about it...  How many times did we feel hungry after dinner and someone told us that we couldn't be hungry because we had just eaten?  We were told to stop crying because the thing scaring us wasn't actually scary.  We were told that feeling desire was sinful and that the flesh cannot be trusted.  We are given so many messages about how our bodies are not right and the world knows better.  Can you relate?

In 5th grade, my teacher told me I didn't have to go to the bathroom even though my body was desperately telling me something else.  I had no choice but to accept her truth about my body.  Turns out, my body was right.  

In 10th grade, the older male manager at my workplace got uncomfortably close to me and my stomach lurched and felt sick.  I told myself that I was being silly and he was just an affectionate person and "don't make a scene."  When he rubbed my shoulders or stroked my back, I told myself that it was no big deal.  He didn't mean anything by it.

Just last week, I felt hungry.  Only I didn't want to feel hungry because my body is not the right shape for this world.  So, I told my body that it wasn't hungry.  It shouldn't be hungry.  It did not deserve that food because it was too big and round and soft.  Eventually, my body DEMANDED sustenance and I gave in.  I had not learned, so I didn't listen to my body tell me when it was full.  My brain said, "you won't get to eat this thing again, so eat all you can."  After that, my body felt tight and ungainly and uncomfortable.

I could go on and on about all the times when I have wanted to be the smart boss bitch of my body.  Most of the time, however, I'm not even that.  Most of the time, I'm not even aware that my body has something to say.  I have ignored it and repressed it and shamed it so long, I've forgot to even listen for its wisdom.  Truthfully, I didn't even think it had any wisdom.  

I ignore the ache in my brain that tells me that I'm exhausted. I ignore the tight compression of panic in my chest.  I ignore the queasiness of fear and the heat of rage.  I ignore the tight knots that tell me that boundaries are being challenged.  I don't pay attention.  I ignore.  I tell myself things like, "Just push through" or "No pain no gain."  My body is something to tame or break or mold or mask or adorn, but it is not something to trust.  No, sir.  

I told my partner to send me his favorite picture of me.
This is what he sent.
You don't want to know what my brain told me about this picture.
I'm a slow learner, I guess.

Ignoring my body and shaming my body and restricting my body is just not working.  It hasn't given me the body I think I want.  It hasn't made my life happier or more fulfilling.  It hasn't strengthened relationships or helped me achieve my goals.  

It's time to write a new story and forge a new friendship with my body. I am not going to weigh it or force it to do exercise I don't enjoy.  I am going to pay attention to what it tells me about fullness and hunger.  I am going to notice which things I do cause it to feel good and which things make it feel yucky. I am not going to measure it or smash it into tight spandex packages.  I am going to adorn it for my own pleasure and not for the world's.  I am going to try so hard to love it and not scold or shame it.

That's my 2021 resolution about 20 days late.  I am going to listen to the truth that I can feel.  I'm going to love and cherish and befriend my body.

Thank you, body.  Thank you for trying so hard to tell me what I've needed all these years. I am finally ready to listen.