This Body of Mine
My daughter had a baby seven weeks ago. She says she can feel her organs shifting back into place. I look at her with disbelief. How do you know that, I ask her? She shrugs; I just do. She has always had a keen awareness of her body, knowing intuitively, something was wrong before symptoms appeared.
She did not get this from me. I have had no relationship with my body for most of my life.
I have blogged previously that at 10 years old, I knew I was fat. The sad part is that I continued believing for the next 40 years. I was ashamed of my body throughout my childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood. I was always heavy; big-boned, I was kindly told. I felt ashamed of not having sufficient willpower and restraint. I went from being uncomfortable with my body to hating my body, and so I chose to ignore my body. My body shame impacted my relationships, work, confidence, and enjoyment of day-to-day living. We know from Brené Brown that body shame is so powerful, and often so deeply rooted in our psyche, that it can impact why and how we feel shame in regards to identity, appearance, sexuality, motherhood, parenting, health, and aging. The long reach of body shame can impact how we love, work, parent, communicate, and build relationships.
I finally began to feel comfortable with my body in my mid 50’s. It was a gradual process. My girls moved out. I cut back on my consulting. I had more time for the physical activities I enjoyed – yoga, cycling, and walking – especially walking. I cycled through the countryside of Chiang Mai, went on a hiking retreat in the Asturian Mountains of Spain, walked the Portuguese Coastal Camino, and hiked in the Atlas Mountains in Morocco.
Yet while I now feel comfortable with my body, my relationship with my body is still tenuous. After ignoring my body for so many years, I am not cued into the messages it sends me. I can feel aches, sore muscles, and even butterflies in my stomach, and yet remain clueless as to their origin.
My husband is the one who says, well, no wonder your muscles hurt, you carried a bag of dog food into the house. Or he will point out, when I am complaining about intestinal cramps, that I did just have pasta with a cream sauce. I know I can suffer after eating dairy but this link was elusive. It seems obvious, doesn’t it? But not to me!
Two years ago, I began getting severe muscle aches and pains. When my body hurts, I become more disciplined about my yoga routine. Yoga did not help this time. I spoke to my doctor, although not mentioning the severity of my discomfort. She scheduled several tests – everything came back negative. And so I put it down to aging; I thought I was probably feeling what many women my age feel. One day, in a conversation with a group of friends, I mentioned my aching, expecting everyone to nod and agree. But no, other than one other woman, no one else struggled with this type of pain. And still, I did not go back to my doctor. It was only last spring, in a phone appointment to renew a prescription that I mentioned my ongoing debilitating muscle pain, and discovered the cause. My doctor posed numerous questions and then said she thought I might have myalgia, a side effect of one of my prescriptions. She took me off the prescription; the pain disappeared.
I am sharing this with you because I have assumptions about physical aging that you may also believe. I expect my hearing to go, my memory to become foggy, and my joints to stiffen. I have been lulled into these beliefs by societal stereotypes. And, I believe my doctor, who reminds me that I am getting older and my body is changing. But I am only 63. Yes, some of my symptoms may be attributed to aging, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t double-check with a medical professional or my naturopath. I have learned how important it is to follow up when I am not feeling well; there may be an underlying condition. And even if it is aging, there are likely healthy habits, natural supplements, or medication to control and even cure my symptoms.