I wasn’t sure what direction I wanted to go with this blog, but I figured starting at the beginning was a good option as every story begins somewhere. When I think back throughout my life and my relationship with my body, mind, and food, I realize that once there was a little girl who felt very insecure about how she looked.
At about the age of two, my parents enrolled me in gymnastics. I don’t remember the early years but beginning about the age of five or six, I remember going to practice at a private studio and absolutely loving the climbing, twisting, bending and just having fun dancing around.
My first coach was a tall, beautiful lady named Diane. She actually continued being my coach through ballet and all the way through junior high school. She was more of a ballerina than a gymnast, but I remember how she made me feel. She was very encouraging and always commented on how tiny and powerful I was. I wasn’t built like the other girls and often felt a bit awkward and scrawny. I loved to dance and preform with thoughts of being a Dorothy Hammill mill skater (yes, I had the haircut to match.) I watched Wonder Woman with Linda Carter and wanted to have that superpower to beat the bad guys. This was played out in my Wonder Woman underoos in my front yard. However, in front of others, I often froze up and didn’t feel comfortable expressing myself. I worried that how I saw myself was but a delusion of reality, so I held back.
In practice and competition, when it came to doing flips on the floor, balancing on the beam, flying over the vault or swinging on the bars, I couldn’t be stopped. This didn’t stop in the gym. I loved the monkey bars and often climbed the big trees at the park and home. I’ve always had a need to be the best and to be perfect. If another girl could do a trick I couldn’t, well that set the new mark. Despite all this, I still didn’t feel I was good enough. Someone else always outshined me.
This feeling was true about my body, even at a young age. I can remember going to the YMCA with my friends to practice and we always felt the need to get on the scale. If my friend weighed less than me (she was 3” shorter), well then I need to try harder to stay skinny. Notice I didn’t say fit. I often got up early with my mom to exercise to Richard Simmons before school. This concept remained true through high school and college. Being skinny was key. That’s what the magazines showed was beautiful. I saw this in my idols and the constant weigh-ins, and comments ingrained this into my belief system. To me skinny was wearing the smallest size; and being the cheerleader, the guys wanted to stunt with because I was “light”. It meant doing endless cardio sessions and many times, feeding my body with diet pills. More on that later.
Back then, that little girl associated skinny with healthy. Strength and muscles were not part of it. Healthy had nothing to do with what I ate (I loved candy.) Healthy was skinny at all costs, end of story. Was this because of magazines or TV? Not likely. It’s easy to put blame on those outside sources, but really, it was my lack of understanding and the concept of “if you’re not first, you’re last.” I watched very little of this year’s Olympics for this very reason. I enjoy watching the competitions and to see where gymnastics is today versus where it was when I was competing is simply amazing. However, society (around the world) believes in this very concept. The pressure to first and to be the best with little thought of what it does to the individuals mind is something that I related to in my heart. Hearing athletes speak about this brought back those thoughts for me. When I took a break from gymnastics for about a year at the age of nine, I simply told my parents I didn’t want to go. Fact is, the thought that I wasn’t the best, made it no longer fun for me.
Not long ago in PC (pre-COVID) times, I was in the ladies’ locker room getting changed post workout and there were a couple of girls chatting about getting ready to go to the pool. While getting ready, they got on the scale to weigh themselves. One girl noting that she gained two pounds and she needed to lose that weight. It reminded me and my friend back in the day. They were probably nine or ten and were just like us thinking that they needed to be skinny. It broke my heart. I didn’t say anything as I didn’t know them and thought it would be weird, but I did truly wish they would see just how beautiful they were and understand the difference between skinny and healthy. In different classes I’ve attended people ask, “if you could talk to yourself as a child, what would you say.” I would let that little girl know she was already perfect and to be happy and healthy, not just skinny. Question of the day for anyone reading this: “What would you say to yourself as a child?” Look in the mirror and tell it to your adult self today and everyday.
Thanks for following me and feel free to share your thoughts and answers. Until next time, slainte!
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