Woman in the Mirror

Tuesday, August 03, 2010 - Comments 3

By Valerie Cunningham

About a year ago I was given the green-light to start exercising again.  I wasn’t really sure how I felt about this, considering it had been 3 years since I had participated in an “official” exercise program.  At the onset of recovery, my extremely malnourished body couldn’t handle it, so my dietician and therapist put me on an exercise hiatus.  Fast-forward three years…now with a healthy mind and body, I had permission to proceed. 

Honestly, I had become quite used to the lack of exercise, that I didn’t even want to entertain the thought of pulling out the tanks and yoga pants again.  You see, for the 22 years with ED, I had exercised because he had told me to.  And I didn’t do it in moderation.  Oh no, not this over-achiever…. I was addicted.  If I didn’t get a pre-determined amount of exercise in on a given day, I was a complete failure.  Take a day off due to illness or extreme weather conditions, you ask?  Never. 

So, I sat with it. 

For the past four years, one of my ongoing issues in therapy has been “self care” --- taking time for me, doing things that energize me and fill my tank.  I decided it was time to take the plunge and step out of my comfort zone.

So I enrolled in a Pilates class, one of the many forms of exercise I had dabbled in in the past.  At first, it was hard and I did not have the stamina or strength.  But that didn’t matter.  I was taking care of me:  doing something good for my body, clearing my mind, and energizing myself for the tasks ahead.  For the first time in my life, I was exercising not to burn calories.  And on weeks that I was under the weather, I skipped class.  No guilt, no shame.  I’ve been going once a week for about 4 or 5 months and really enjoy it.

The other night attendance was unusually low.  This meant that I had a very clear view of myself in the mirror-covered wall.  I glanced…and glanced again.  Then I lingered in the moment.  I looked okay.  No, I looked better than okay. I looked fine.  Actually, I looked better than fine…I looked good. Let me clarify---not sculpted and chiseled good. But I saw curves where there should be curves, and strength and tone where there should be strength and tone.  Rather than being repulsed by the vision reflecting back at me, I had appreciation for it.  I felt comfortable in my own skin.  I actually liked what I saw.

Self-acceptance---not easy to come by.  But I had found it.  At least for moment.  And it felt good.