We live in a culture that shames normal and glorifies this photoshopped unattainable image. It impossible to avoid all the adds. Why is it so hard to see them without consuming them?
I can confirm with firm detail that I hated my body in high school. I was too skinny, flat chested, lanky, horrendous backne, folliculitis and do not forget the braces. High school culture reaffirmed that my body was gross and something I should be ashamed of. I was teased for being anorexic (but also called fat), called a dyke and various other crude things all because of how I looked. Even after puberty hit and I sort of got boobs, my body was something that should be covered. It made me a target and I was "asking for it" (the only thing I was asking for was even tan lines) by wearing certain clothing (My first trauma happened in a band shirt and green Acacia Strain sweat shorts but anything goes, Right?).
Even when I first started my naked hiker photos, I still hated my body. I felt like I did not fit in my body and that in times of trauma my body would sell me out.
However, these beliefs are in discourse with self-love. You can not fully love yourself until you look in the mirror and smile because this is your body and it fits you perfectly. Sure, you can want to lose a few pounds or be a bit tanner but these small tweaks are choices you make to feel better about yourself. Whether it's hitting the gym or a tanning booth or the hair salon, your body is yours to improve upon (within healthy means). At the end of the day, you need to look into the mirror accept the things you can not change and love yourself; every last cell on your body, every scar.
A friend of mine thought it was weird that I packed lingerie when moving to New Zealand because I did not have the intention to date anyone (and my PTSD does not leave room for hookups or one night stands). The best way I could explain it was from one of the most enlightening exchanges that occurred in while I was an intern counselor at a domestic violence clinic:
"Girl, do you love yourself?" Without hesitation, "No." was the response from the other client.
"Not even on a get-down-with-your-bad-self-taco-Tuesday?" "No." The exchange between clients continued.
"You don't just put on red lipstick and lingerie to feel sexy for yourself?" "No."
"Girl, you need to go buy yourself some lingerie and a cheeseburger and love all of yourself." The rest of the women in the room had an epiphany (or maybe just me).
I had already been wearing lingerie for myself before this point but hearing out loud, reaffirmed that what I was doing was not some weird fetish that needed to be kept to myself. This behavior was healthy and good for me. From that day on I saw it as a healthy habit for everyone to have that one (or more) item of clothing that makes them feel good; better yet, makes them feel worthy of everything. The story behind how I got this over-priced, tiny as, a piece of red lace (which has never been worn in the physical presence of anyone, so feel lucky to even see a picture of it on me), is one I will never forget but also so worth it. In seclusion of my apartment, I would dance around, binge-watch, and eat whatever I felt like without any guilt or shame for that matter. I was worthy of anything and everything I did while wearing this soft sexy scarlet set. Slowly, this generalized to several other dresses and sweaters and jeans. Eventually, I just felt worthy of everything I set my mind to. New job. Check. Grad school. Check. Moving to a new country. Easy peasy.
Self-love is both an art and a sport. It requires practice, endurance, and the right tools. Honestly, I have not been wearing my lingerie much lately but I still manage to feel worthy of the things that come my way. I hope this encourages you to wear (or just be naked) whatever you want and love yourself regardless. I hope you find comfort in this and the strength to keep practicing self-love. Being all dolled up with nowhere to go is perfectly fine.
<3 Always,
Nik Nak