Twelve Loathsome Miles: Remembering Self-Worth
I see her pretty frequently. She’s struggling, heaving her way down the street, legs like sinewy pretzel rods, the same width from her hips to her ankles. Her gait is unnatural. She’s overdressed.
Perhaps I’ve seen her more times than I care to recall. I’ve had clients like her. I remember one woman, who would meet with me at a coffee shop, by a pier, on the hottest of summer days, dressed in a sweatshirt and turtleneck. Her eyes were sunken, her hair dry and brittle, and there was no trace of happiness in her face.
She’s anorexic. She’s suffering. She’s starving to death. Or in this one’s case, running to death.
When I see her, part of me wants to look away and forget about her until the next time. The rest of me wants to pull over and counsel her.
I drive off to my destination, but I’m left thinking about the ways we torture ourselves every day.
Have you ever stopped to consider all the self-loathing and emotional punishment women inflict on themselves? Ever think about the reasons? A fun-size Twix, the number on a scale, feeling angry or tired, failing?
What is the premium for self-esteem? How far do we fall into these holes we dig ourselves? How do we get out? Do we get out?
Isn’t it bad enough that we spend entire days, weeks, or lifetimes judging ourselves to then allow our families, friends, significant others, strangers, and the TV to do it as well?
How did we become so insecure as a gender? Does the insecurity spur judgement or does judgement spur insecurity? A chicken and egg thing, I suppose.
I’m more outspoken and forward than some may find comfortable. I’m also all about women feeling successful and strong, but it absolutely kills me when other others can’t find it in their souls to do the same. It absolutely kills me as well that we’ve allowed, as a culture, corporations, television, and the Internet to decide who we are, what we’re worth, and where we’re going.
So, next time you’re warming up to embark on that marathon of self-loathing, please remember there’s air in your lungs, you’re healthy, you’re mobile, and there are things in your life more beautiful and meaningful than our daily routines allow us to fully appreciate.
I, personally, can never help being overwhelmed by my son’s eyelashes, the way the sun shines through our blinds in the afternoon, my cat’s purr, and the affection my family consistently shows my children.
These are the things we’ll look back on. Not the twelve extra miles we did on the treadmill to atone for that Twix.
