Are You on Your Body's Team?

As many of you already know, two weeks ago today, I was out camping with my family when I noticed a lump in my breast. A significant lump. A lump that honest-to-goodness came outta nowhere. 

I had a mammogram in March. It wasn't there.
I had a breast exam in June. It wasn't there. 

And then baBAM, there is was. The size of a peanut m+m. Visible to the naked eye. 

I saw my midwife that afternoon. And a week later, I had an ultrasound. 

The results of the ultrasound suggested that the lump wasn't a cyst. It was a tumor. 

A TUMOR.

I was immediately scheduled for a lumpectomy. 

Do you know that feeling when you're driving along on a slushy or muddy road, and the wheel keeps herking and jerking in every direction but straight, and it takes all your presence of mind to stay in your lane? 

Well, that's what it felt like for me to STAY IN MY OWN LANE, and not get lost in imagination land, where I have a first-class degree in worst case scenarios. 

Every time my mind wanted to veer off into the land of WHAT IF... I had to DISRUPT that thought, and PIVOT back to the present moment. 

And do you know HOW I disrupted that thought?

WITH GRATITUDE. 

"I am so grateful to have such a good body that does good body things."
"I am so grateful I'm not at war with my body anymore."
"I am so grateful that I'm on my body's team."

I haven't always had the ability to disrupt and pivot away from those worst-case-scenario thoughts toward more present-minded thoughts. Nor have I always had this kind of reverence and respect for my today-body. 

You KNOW I spent most of my life hating my body for being "too" something.

Too small. Too big. Too dimply. Too fleshy. Too jiggly. Too droopy. Too knobby. Too skinny. Too fat. Too slow. Too awkward. Too loud. 

Whenever something happened TO my body, I was convinced that my body was doing something TO ME. Betraying me. Making fun of me. Shaming me. 

I was at war with my body. 

I thought my body's job was TO BEHAVE, and when it didn't, I was angry with it. 

"I've gone to the gym for 2 hours a day, almost every day for a year, and STILL you have cellulite. Damn you body."

"I've been cutting carbs for months now, and I STILL can't ditch the muffin top. Damn you body."

"I've done all the right things during this pregnancy, and I STILL miscarried. I STILL had a baby who was born with a host of physical differences. I STILL grew a "too big" baby. Damn you body. Why do you hate me so much."
 
As if any of that was my fault, OR my body's fault. 

Over the years, I've come to learn that my body's job isn't TO BEHAVE. My body's job is to be a body.

And guess what? 

My body does a damn good job being a body.

Our bodies work HARD. They are constantly changing, adapting, healing, and growing. They endure stress and grief and loss and hardship. They are doing EVERYTHING THEY CAN to keep us alive and well. And most of the time, they go about their business without so much as a thank you. 

The least we can do for our bodies is love them in return. And thank them. And remember that if something goes "wrong", it's not our body being an asshole. It's our body being a body... vulnerable, fragile, tender, fallible. 

On Wednesday, I went into surgery to get the tumor removed, feeling supported AND loved after spending the morning on Zoom with the gals in SSSPlatinum.

The procedure was hard on me AND my body. I watched and listened as the doctor sliced out a brownie-sized chunk of my breast. My body laid still as the doctor sliced out a brownie-sized chunk of its breast. We both hurt. We both winced from the discomfort. We both trembled. 

It took a full 24 hours for me to stop crying. Because it was hard. ALL OF IT was hard. 

And in that space of hardship, I found solace knowing that me and my body... we're on the same team, and we can handle whatever comes next. 

On Friday, I spent the afternoon blueberry picking with my family here in the wilds of Vermont, and I can hardly describe the feeling of EMBODIMENT that I felt. The sense of EASE. The knowing, that no matter what, WE were going to be okay. 

Later that afternoon, when the doctor called to say my biopsy results came back BENIGN, I was both overwhelmed and underwhelmed. I thought I'd CRY OUT in relief, body crumbling to the ground, but I didn't. I thanked the doctor for letting me know, told my family and friends the good news, and felt... at ease. 

It felt strange to feel so at ease. It STILL feels strange to feel so at ease. 

And now, as I write this note to you, tears are welling up in my eyeballs.

I've talked a good gratitude game for a long-ass time. I've practiced gratitude toward my today-body for years. And now, I'm seeing and feeling the POWER OF GRATITUDE more than I ever have, ever, in my whole life.

Six years ago I hated my body. I was at war with my body. I thought that my body was against me. And then... I changed my pants, and my whole damn life changed. 

It was my FIRST STEP toward realizing my body was not the problem. 

Over the years, I've built a loving relationship with my body... not by changing my body, but by changing my mind. I stood up against a system that was dead-set on keeping me at war with my body (we all know that war is profitable), and forged a new relationship with my body. One rooted in courage, confidence and congruency. Not vitriol, virulence, and vindictiveness. 

When I set out to "get right with style" all those years ago, I had NO IDEA that I was embarking on a journey of radical self-love. I had no idea that I'd someday wear a bikini, and not feel shame. I had no idea that I'd someday find a tumor in my breast, and rely on all those years of PRACTICING GRATITUDE FOR MY TODAY-BODY to keep me grounded, present, steady and at ease.

One thing is for sure. It's taken YEARS of consistent practice, with you by my side, to access this kind of steadiness. 

So thank you. THANK YOU for joining me on this journey of RADICAL SELF LOVE. 

I love you. All of you.

Stasia