Foreword
I set out to write into why this passage from Dr. Estes’ Women Who Run With the Wolves, touched me so deeply:
“Women who are big or small, wide or narrow, short or tall, are most likely to be so simply because they inherited the body configuration of their kin; if not their immediate kin, then those a generation or two back. To malign or judge a woman’s inherited physicality is to make generation after generation of anxious and neurotic women. To make destructive exclusionary statements about a women’s inherited form, robs her of several critical and precious psychological and spiritual treasures. It robs her of pride in the body type that was given to her by her own ancestral lines…To attack a woman thusly destroys her rightful pride of affiliation with her own people and robs her of the natural lilt she feels in her body no matter what height, size, shape she is.In essence, the attack on women’s bodies is a far-reaching attack on the ones who have gone before her as well as the ones who will come after her.”
Here are my reflections.
May they be useful.
In the Body of My Mother
I grew up in the Southern United States: North Carolina, Mississippi, and largely in Houston, Texas. The celebrated beauty standard for women and girls in those places, in that time was essentially – thin, small framed, and of European descent (white folks).
I remember being on a school bus, on the way to Kindergarten in Mississippi, heartbroken as and two older boys snickered and gawked and pointed at me. In thick Southern accents, they said, “You ugly little Indian!”
Or maybe they didn’t say ugly. I don’t remember. I just knew they meant it as an insult. And that’s exactly how it felt. I shrunk in my seat, looking down – wishing I could disappear.
As a child who loved the outdoors, as a child who was half Mexican, my skin was almost always a deep and golden brown. Until that day, it had not occurred to me to be ashamed of it.
That was the first time I remember being embarrassed about my body.
But, there was more to come.
Growing up my Mother, like so many Mothers I knew, was almost always on a diet. She ate different food than us and required rigorous exercise to keep her…well, okay. I’m not sure how often she said the words, but her actions communicated that there was something wrong with her body, specifically the way it looked, and she was constantly trying to fix it.
This was confusing to me, as I remember my cousins and friends constantly talking about how pretty my Mom was (something that goes on to this day, by the way).
As my body grew through puberty, it was revealed that – low and behold – my Mother’s body was my body. We were naturally athletic and strong. Legs and hips built like tennis players. Wide-ish in frame and thick. Sturdy & curvy.
My whole Maternal side of the family, my Mexican side, had/have these same qualities.
As I came of age, trying to find my place in the world, I observed what was considered beautiful in movies, magazines, and even in the tastes of boys at school. I found nothing of myself in it.
I was not white, not exactly. “What are you?” said so many kids, bewildered by my ethnically ambiguous looks. I was certainly not thin or small in frame. Despite being an objectively healthy girl, inside I felt enormous, ugly & ashamed.
Thus began my shrinking act.
From the age of 12 through well into my 20’s, I adopted my Mother’s outlook on this form of ours: battle. In an effort to make myself physically small, I took diet pills, went through fits of bulimia, I exercised to the point of exhaustion, drank only Slimfast.
I yo-yoed a lot – and so did my confidence.
I was at war with my body.
I was at war with its natural shape.
I utilized so much of inner attention
Beating the walls of me
Roaring with insult after insult
and starving my body
like the prisoner of war that it was.
I can say, from this vantage point, years later, I hated my body so fiercely, at times, I swear, the hatred almost killed me.
But, then a blessing.
In the form of a teacher.
It wasn’t until my first intense metaphysical experience, which came through being guided through my own Chakra System by Fay Simpson, that the tide began to change.
As my spiritual journey unfolded, I began to have visions of my Mexican and Native American Ancestors. They quickly became treasured guides of mine, holding my hand, initiation after initiation.
I began to see them and feel them in my body. Their presence began to work on me.
Slowly, the layers of hatred and cultural conditioning that had incased my spirit & mind began to shed.
I began to see how my strong and sturdy body mirrored the perseverance and enormous power of my people.
I began to see my golden brown skin as a link to the mystical golden terrain of the land in south Texas and Mexico.
I began to feel my wide hips, so sensuous and expressive in their movements, as the carriers of the raucous passion, colorful creativity, and wildish fertility of my ancestors.
My body slowly became a home,
a hearth,
filled with warm unconditional, familial love.
My body became a place where mystical guidance was whispered constantly within.
My body became beautiful, in my eyes.
And I’m deeply grateful to report that now I find my body to be gorgeous and delicious and amazingly alive, and simply, the perfect home for my soul.
Miraculously, as this process has unfolded over all these years, I have been witness to my Mother coming to love her body too. To see her revel in her form is a sight truly so beautiful, my heart swells and my eyes tear as I write these words.
~~~
During this Moon Cycle, where we, as a community, are exploring living “In These Hips”, I cannot help but feel our ancestors around us. For the hips are intrinsically linked to our roots, to our lineages.
And contemplating that can be big and complex. Especially, when there is wounding, pain, disfunction in our blood lines, as is true of all bloodlines. It can be a disorienting thought/experience for those who have been adopted and share the spiritual inheritance of their family, along side the physical inheritance of their birth family.
And yet…
Perhaps we can trust in our bodies to be the most perfect & rich soil through which each of us can grow in this life.
Perhaps we can trust ourselves to uncover the treasures (active or dormant) bestowed upon us by our ancestors.
Perhaps we can send healing & love backwards and forwards through the generations.
Perhaps we are perfectly equipped.
Perhaps it is time.
~~~
NOW, YOUR TURN:
Dr. Estes writes that our inherited bodies possess, “several critical and precious psychological and spiritual treasures.” Does this resonate? Are you aware of any treasures inherited through your body? Your hips? Please share a sentence, a paragraph, a poem – whatever you wish. Can’t wait to read ‘em!
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Thank you for this. I alternate between love and discontent with my body. I dont want my daughter to have this same struggle. Thank you for the perspective that you shared as yourself and as a daughter. In our moon circle, I wrote down that i will say nothing negative about my body internally or externally through this moon. I am going to work my hardest to continue this for all the rest of the moon cycles that i live.
Beautiful, Amber! Thank you so much for writing.
Changing our inner dialogue is no small task. Wishing you kindness and patience as take on this important Intention.
Lovelove,
C
Thank you for sharing your experience, strength and hope. I feel so much healing and connection while reading your journey. Thank you!
Thank you so much, Dawn! That makes me happy.
Thank you for your beautifully expressed experience. Unlike many (most) of my peers, I was blessed with two significant items which likely diminished any negative body image messages I may have encountered along the path. The first being, both my mother and her mother did not promote the wider world view. Both were deemed “attractive”. Yet, they didn’t spend time applying lots of make-up, going on fad diets or even color their hair when it became grey. The other item for me is now having lived 30 years passed a dire medical prognosis and all that went with that. Wrinkles, droopy skin, age spots, grey hair are all medals of survival for me. Survival that allowed me to hang around and benefit people as best I can. My body is the vessel of compassion.
Wow! Thank you for sharing about your Mother and Grandmother – what revolutionary women!
I want to see your words framed: “My body is the vessel of compassion.”
Thank you, so much SueAnn!
Thank you so much for sharing Chris! Your words and experiences really convey the secret message all of our bodies have for us. As a woman of multiple ethnic backgrounds I identify with you completely. I remember sitting in a 7th grade classroom filling out a form that asked what race I was. Having African, European, and Indian blood I raised my hand in confusion and the teacher (who I know now was a racist) said to me “oh, you’re black.” She made the only other girl of color (I went to private catholic school and there was hardly any cultural mix) who had deep ebony skin stand and said “she’s black. You’re black. The rest of US are white.”
My babysitter at the time was African and she had two kids who would tease me for being light skinned and call me ugly, saying no one would ever love me.
And I even met an Indian man who looked at me and said “drop of blood my ass!”
Feeling rejection from all sides at a very early age sowed fears deep within me and I would wake up from nightmares of being alone. I straightened my “frizzy” hair, never went in the sun and starved myself.
I understand now that those people had their own hang ups to deal with, and I don’t hold anything against them. I’ve started to find the beauty in my body and features that have melded from multiple bloodlines. As my body healed, I saw that what made me different, makes me feel special now. I am strong and athletic, and I can be sensual and soft. My differences call attention to me, and that makes me commanding if I want to be. I’m a melting pot and it’s actually those bloodlines of color that I feel beating in my blood when I do my healing work and meditation. I’m so grateful for their wisdom and protection and their healing of my heart.
💜
Thank you so much for sharing about your journey, Adrianna. So with you. And So grateful for your perspective.
This line, in particular, moved me: “I’m a melting pot and it’s actually those bloodlines of color that I feel beating in my blood when I do my healing work and meditation.”
Big hug & love to you,
Chris
🙏 in the flesh
Thank you.
You are so welcome, Jane. Thank you for writing. xo
I caught myself feeling judgmental of my body yesterday – the heaviness I’ve been feeling when I move, how my panties bave been fitting in recent weeks, and my “Christmas belly” as I call it. But then later in the day as I was simply walking through the office at my job, I caught myself recalling when I danced freely with my sisters around the New Moon and was encouraged to let my hips take up space, I felt the sensual rhythm in my sway with each step and I smiled to myself, enjoying a private secret, and I recalled that I’ve been getting stronger too. My muscles are developing and I’ve been challenging myself in yoga classes to explore and take more risks. I’ve caught myself dancing around my apartment with abandon and honoring my hips’ various needs in private moments. I feel stronger, sexier, earthy, braver, and a lot more confident in my ability to receive. It hasn’t always been like this and I grew up in Mississippi too where I was told that my large hips were “only okay if I also had a tiny waste.” I used to feel anger about these messages and the women (or media) they came from, but now I feel compassion for what I now have which they maybe do not yet have: self-acceptance, self-compassion, and my ability to rejoice in being alive with Creator. I love growing in sisterhood and being able to love my own and other womens’ (people’s) bodies in a good way, and this shift brings me hope for all.
Yes, Emily! Love reading about your experiences with your body and your hips ~ wow!
“I feel stronger, sexier, earthy, braver, and a lot more confident in my ability to receive.” yes yes yes!
Much much love to you,
Chris
I’m so glad to have read this article, I have an almost 12 year old daughter and for the past year she has heard me say how fat I am, how I need to loose weight and many other negative comments about my body. I had always been thin but in the past year as I’m going through peri menopause, I have gained 15 pounds, I’m not used to the extra weight and none of my clothes fit anymore. I realize now that I’m setting a wrong example for her, I need to love and accept myself and my beautiful body if I want my daughter to do the same. Self criticism is so destructive, I always tell her she is beautiful and perfect just the way she is and I need to live what I preach, so, no more putting myself down, I make a vow right here and right now that I will not criticize my body anymore. Thank you for opening my eyes to this .
First of all, you and your mother are both beautiful!
I was a healthy weight until about five years ago, and I struggled with feeling content with my body even back then. So, I completely get that so many women struggle with this despite being healthy.
But for me, the reality is that I need to lose weight for my well being. I can remind myself that my self-worth is not determined by how I look, but I do need to work on maintaining healthy habits while avoiding blame, shame, and attachment to results on the scale.
Thank you for this. I did notice the artwork for Fest ’17 included sisters of all sizes, and it was very much appreciated.
Oh Chris, this is beautifully written. I don’t believe there is one woman who hasn’t felt pressure or judgment from herself or others around her body. Thank you for so openly sharing your story and inspiring all of us to look at ourselves with love, gratitude, and admiration. I personally have a great appreciation for your words at this time <3 Thank you!
Holly
In my limited practice with yoga I struggle to open and stretch my hips. My knees spring up to the sky when I sit cross legged. In moments when I get them a little stretched out I am flooded with emotion. I don’t know if this happens to anyone else, but it’s like a floodgate is opened from my body through my soul.
I have danced to Shakira in my kitchen making a prayer of it, enjoying the way my hips made me feel.
I have loved that my hips were wide enough to shelf my child so readily.
I find that I mostly love my bodies hips. I try and set a good example and I try and remember that it is a divine, ancestral right to love the power in my body. I admit it is difficult to maintain that truth. I feel sooo conditioned in negative habits still.
This moon cycle theme has also reminded me of one of my favorite books “The Witch of Portobello”, though maybe that is more for our belly or both. Hips make me think of a familiar feminine calling, and a constant well of sensuality and power, ever giving and moving
My body relayed to me two years ago after I had just met my birth father for the first time at age 50 a message from his long past parents, who died in the midst of their alcohol addiction, “Quit drinking in 2016 to help heal us of our wounds for us to pass to the next level and halt the generational karma”. I obeyed and was released from lifelong shame around drinking although I had never identified as having a problem myself, the binging would reveal unhealed abandonment trauma in my behavior.
Thank you, Anita, for sharing. I have realized in the past few months as I try to honestly love and respect myself that my binge drinking is a sort of punishment stemming from a deep fear that I am not enough and I don’t matter. The shame that fills me afterward enforces that fear. Your phrase “unhealed abandonment trauma” helps me understand on an even deeper level what is behind the drinking. I have been waking lately repeating the mantra, “I love my whole body self.” This helps me accept all parts of me, physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, in this moment as I am. I think of India Arie’s lyric, “I am light.” May we love ourselves in the beauty, truth and strength of who we are in this very moment. ♡♡♡
Thanks for sharing this, Chris. As a young adolescent, a neighbor’s father heard my friend and i complaining about our budding hips. We had been becoming keenly aware that our body types – me: short, curvy and athletic and her: also athletic but a little fuller in the belly – did NOT conform at all to the stereotypical Twiggy-like images we were increasingly noticing on our TV screens and in magazines. He told me that if I stood between two door jambs and bumped my hips on first one door jamb and then the other my hips would diminish in size. Ridiculously, I did it. For months. Hard. I finally stopped after I noticed it wasn’t working. I hate that man to this day.
Over the years I have come to feel a sort of peace with my hips. Reading your message, Chris, about our bodies being our ancestral inheritances, really helps, as do your words, “I began to feel my wide hips, so sensuous and expressive in their movements, as the carriers of the raucous passion, colorful creativity, and wildish fertility of my ancestors.”
Our hips are aligned with our second chakra, the place where creativity, passion and joy reside. It’s heartening to see young women step up and begin to question this culturally prescribed notion of what is beautiful. Go women!
Dearest Chris,
thank you so much for sharing your story. It absolutely moved me deeply in many ways…
I don´t have much more to say as that I hear you and I feel you…
You are such a beautiful woman (in- and outside!), sending you a big warm hug!
Yours Yvonne
Thank you for this! I am going through my first pregnancy right now and as my body is changing I go through phases of feeling beautiful beyond anything I have felt before and struggling to accept my new shape. I’m going to keep your words in mind as everything progresses. <3
NOURISHMENT IS KINDNESS
if i eat too little
i have sinned
if i eat too much
i have sinned
if i am too specific in
my nourishment
i have sinned
If I have preferences of
what nourishes me
I have sinned
If I eat into bulge
And then eat into starvation
I have sinned
If I fill up too much
on a plate at a party
I have sinned
If I eat in a dark corner
it’s a secret pleasure
So I have sinned
If the community keeps
pushing unhealthy choices
down my throat
I have sinned
If I eat
only enough to exist
I actually do not fully exist
And this is the only
time I’ve dishonoured
the gift of life
And yes indeed,
I have been sinful
to have denied
the nourishing of the temple
of my ancient spirit
Please hold down my body
in the warmest embrace
squeezing out every last minuscule
impulse of deprivation, denial, self-hate and flagellation
And nurse me back into
the arms of blood-flowing fresh glow on the surface of my skin
To Let Me Know
Again
And Again
Infinite times over
That Being in this Body Is
Sensual Sacred Ground
of Nourishing
Earth Fire Water Air & Ether
And like a prayer on tasbeeh
I must keep repeating
until my cells soak it all in
to unlearn the shame
My Body Is Not Sin
My Body Is Not Sin
There is nothing to hide
There is nothing to cleanse
My Body is….
Blasphemy
That Allows
Deep Knowing
Of Diving Into My Spirit
And Only In My Body
I Am Always Both
A Travelling Nomad
And
Aging Family Home
Well said! I am a mom of a little girl – we try every day or at least 1/week to stand in the mirror and tell ourselves how beautiful, strong, powerful we are. It’s to demonstrate to her that her soul glow’s – not her looks. It hurts my heart that so many moms don’t realize the impressions they make on their children (girls and boys) with words like, “I look awful today”, “My diet starts today”, etc. If only we saw each others souls vs. looks! Thank you for sharing! Aho.