Would you call a goddess fat?

Like most American women, I have body image issues. Most of the time I manage to keep them in check, but something happened yesterday which triggered mine in a major way, and I'm still trying to put myself back to rights.

I don't believe in the diet culture we live in. I reject out of hand the idea that women ought to all be the same size, and that the size in question is an extra small. The idea that caloric requirements can be figured out using a calculator (newsflash: people aren't bunsen burners!). The idea that a healthy diet consists of 80% vegetables, 19% lean protein, and no more than 1% fat, or whatever this week's proscribed eating plan might be.

What I do believe: that every person has a different healthy weight. That each person knows what their body needs if they just listen to it. That healthy eating is not the same from person to person. That all people are beautiful -- not necessarily sexually attractive to me personally, but always aesthetically pleasing).

Also, I believe that all people are, at least to an extent, embodied divinity. Which means that there are as many variations in human bodies as there are in deities (and not just representations thereof!) Would you call an earth goddess, rounded with life's bounty, that she needs to go on a diet? Like Hel you would! So why do we tell ourselves the same thing? I first encountered this concept when I read The Body Sacred -- an excellent book which I highly recommend -- and I have been trying to internalize it ever since.

The fact is, my body is the only way I get to experience the physical world. It is how I enjoy the wind on my face as I zoom downhill on my bike, how I feel the tickle of my hair on my arm on a summer day, how I touch my husband, and how I taste everything from strawberries to wedding cake. I should celebrate that gift, not tear it apart for failing to conform to an imaginary ideal that I was never designed to fulfill! But that's hard, in a society that refuses to honor the sacredness of the individual.

Amid all of the conflicting messages, it can be hard to know my own mind, never mind listen to my own body. After all every day I see another billboard or magazine telling me that I have no idea how to feed myself, exercise myself, or otherwise take care of my own physical self. It can be tempting to fall into a dichotomy -- either accept what they have to say whole heartedly and eat salad for every meal, or rebel against what they say and have an ice cream sundae for dinner every night. But either choice takes away my autonomy, and that is not acceptable.

I try to behave in ways that honor my body, but it can be difficult. Some time ago, I started to get sick of putting the same things in my oatmeal every morning. So, I started mixing in some chocolate chips from time to time. That was respectful, because I was listening to my body's need for variety. However, for the last two weeks I have done that everyday. Something that made me feel special from time to time does not have the same effect when repeated daily. When I put chocolate in my oatmeal this morning, I was not taking care of myself. It's all about intent. I was being very respectful of my body yesterday when I split a second slice of wedding cake with my husband -- in that case, I was indulging in a treat, and it made me feel good. Ditto splurging on strawberries at the grocery store today when I was utterly intoxicated by their aroma. Eating them was pure bliss.

Taking good care of myself means riding my bike to work and going to the gym once a week to do weights for my shoulder, which does not like my desk job. Working out on a treadmill for 45 minutes three times a week just because somebody says I should? Not healthy for me. But for somebody else, somebody who enjoys the treadmill, that could be very healthy.

Taking good care of myself means listening to what my body has to say. Pampering it in healthy ways, not trying to fix perceived flaws. Because my body is not imperfect. Nobody's is.

I have no idea how to make myself see this all of the time, anymore than I know how to convince others that torturing their bodies into submission is not the answer. Perhaps someday I will figure that out. But until then, I guess I'll just have to keep struggling towards the light.

* * * * * * *

In the interests of encouraging healthy indulgences, I will now share my favorite skin care treat. I have no idea what it is meant to do, or if it is meant to do anything at all, but it is fun, feels good, and leaves my skin happy and soft. Are you ready? It's really simple.

1. Get some honey. Get some on your hand.
2. Smear said honey on your face, being careful not to get any in your hair.
3. Tap the honey rapidly with your fingers. The honey will bead up like water droplets eventually. Keep doing this until you get bored.
4. Rest.
5. After a few minutes, rinse the honey off. I like to do this before a shower, but you can use a very wet washcloth, too.

Have fun!