The female body. It's more than a shape and some extra parts. It's an intricate, yet delicate assembly of the finest evolution.
A woman's body is formed to endure. It's tough, it's the very barer of life. Yet, society raises us on the rule of learning to hide and hate the female body, to chop, alter and add or enhance what we have. We're taught to be shameful of what our body can do.
It's our duty as the new generation of adults, to improve apon the socially acceptable laws of beauty and openness, let's choose to show no shame. Liberate the female form and normalise what we face as women, so that we can show our daughters that they don't have to hide.
Our bodies in all their glory do absolutely amazing work, far more than we ever credit them for.
For a long time I hated my body, it's been recited over and over inside my brain for as long as I can remember, that I don't look perfect. My body doesn't act perfect. I don't move perfect.
I've been thinking too much about how it feels to me, that my body keeps on betraying me.
From the moment that I began menstruating, I suffered from terrible pain. It would be many excruciating years, until I was diagnosed with endometriosis.
Endometriosis can only be diagnosed by key hole surgery. There is no cure but lesions can be burned away during laperoscopic exploration. I've had three.
Endometriosis led to fertility struggles. Months to years of negative pregnancy tests and an irregular period. Plus a few trips to the ER with ruptured ovarian cysts.
Finally becoming pregnant, led to a tough gestation. There were times when I would vomit pools of blood every morning as a result of the intense acid reflux I experienced. I had cysts almost the size of tennis balls on both of my ovaries for the first twelve weeks. Then to top it off, a case of pre-eclampsia as my son entered the world. Thankfully, he was born big, strong and healthy.
I was still very sick when I was discharged from the hospital after giving birth, yet I didn't realise it. I just thought I was tired and I thought it was all normal. I was so sick still suffering from extremely high blood pressure, my breast milk never "came in". Not being able to breast feed, was a whole other world of self disappointment and body shame. I was lucky to have the support from my GP that noticed at my one week post partum check up and the most amazing child health nurse on going from there.
Then came the breast lumps. Scans, tests and biopsies of all kinds. The process seems to repeat itself every two years or so. The last time was quite a scare, it came with a vacuum assisted biopsy and a permanent chunk of metal in my left boob.
Ofcourse I cannot forget the PAP smears or the cervical screening tests as they're called these days. After some abnormal cytology, waiting it out and then repeating. Then came the first colposcopy and some biopsies, followed by the first surgery. I got the all clear, post surgery and I had all of my follow up tests.
But unfortunately, I recently recieved another abnormal result with evidence of high grade changes within my cervix, so it's time for another surgery, this time to take a larger chunk from deeper within the glandular region of my cervix. I will have to wait to see what the labs will say about my fate from there.
I've got scars on my abdomen in atleast six places from the keyhole surgeries that I've had for my endometriosis. I have scars on my breast, from deep tissue and core biopsies. I have my stretch marks from growing my baby. I'm at risk of having an incompetent cervix in future, and I've got the anxiousness that I just never know what comes next, when it comes to my body.
I had began to hate my body. I hated everything I've had to go through for it. I hated the way I look. I hated the pain I feel. I hated that I never feel perfect.
But I was looking at it all wrong. I had the wrong message, the complete wrong narrative. My body is everything. My body carries me around every day. It keeps me safe. My body grew and carried my son. My body continues to carry my son, when I lift him into the warm embrace that we both need so bad some days. My body does it's all, to always heal and go on.
My body is strong and overcomes it's set backs.
While my body may not look like the perfection that society wants it to, it's perfect for me and all it's been through. I'm greatful for my scars, I'm greatful for my stretch marks and even for my shitty tattoo's because this body has gotten me this far and it has one hell of a story to tell. I am proud of every mark, dimple and scar.
Every single human being, should love their body every single day, for all that it is, for everywhere it's been and for all it can do. Finally I am learning how to love my own.
If you are a woman, remember how resilient and special your body is. Respect it's triumphs.
And if you love a woman, be it your Mother, Sister, Partner, Grandma or your Daughter, remind her of how much of a tough bitch she really is.
The female body is boss, in every respect imaginable.
Endurance, stamina, resilience.
Strength.
Beauty.
Love your body.
Comments