Gentle Reader, what does it mean to hate the body you live in?
Whether that body is fat, thin, large, small, abled, differently abled, white, black, brown, what does it mean? Does it mean that we–and by we, I’m speaking largely of women, here–understand our bodies differently? Do we have the mental capacity to love ourselves the way we love others? Do we judge others the way we judge ourselves?
I find myself doing this, judging others. I used to say, “I hate you; you’re so thin!” until I realized that it said nothing about anyone but me, and in a terrible way. See, I was trained to *hate* girls who were thinner/prettier/blonder than I was, not by any particular person, but by a conglomeration of media and personal interactions. And what does hate do but divide women and make us compete among ourselves? And what does that competition do but divide and conquer? Conquer us, women, distract us so that we don’t notice the work that needs to be done?
It’s down to body politics, friends, and we need to work on our political statements about our bodies.
Today, I say, loudly, that I love my body. Today. I may not love it tomorrow, but for today, I love it, fat and all.