“ Shame is the most powerful , master emotion . It ’ s the fear that we ’ re not good enough .” ~ Brené Brown
This year , I finally fell in love -- with my arms . But , this isn ’ t the romantic love story you might expect to hear . There was no “ love at first sight .” No “ dowdy girl in glasses gets a makeover and is suddenly hot ” rom-com plot . This love story is wrought with struggle , tears and shame .
Loving my body has always been hard . But , the biggest struggle has always been my arms . They are big and jiggly . Even when I lost weight , my arms never seemed to get better -- just more wobbly and jiggly . It ’ s hard to find sleeves that aren ’ t too tight . And go sleeveless ?! Are you kidding ?! No fucking way . They only shirts for me had sleeves that covered my elbow .
The first time I remember feeling ashamed of my arms was in 3rd grade . I was in Miss Atkins class . She configured our desks in long rectangles so eight of us could face each other and work as a group . We were working on an art project , cutting and pasting away .
The girl across the table stopped and pointed at me . “ What ’ s that ?” she asked . “ What ’ s what ?” I asked back . “ THAT ?! It ’ s gross !” she said again , pointing at the inside of my bicep . She was talking about the silvery lines that looked like scratches on the inside of my arm . I said , “ I don ’ t know . It ’ s just there !” and pressed my arms against my body so she couldn ’ t see them anymore . I didn ’ t know they were stretch marks from my body growing so fast . I just knew they were gross and I was ashamed of them .
“ Shame is the most powerful , master emotion . It ’ s the fear that we ’ re not good enough .” ~ Brené Brown
I spent the rest of my childhood , and into my adult life , comparing myself to others . I was so scared that I wasn ’ t good enough if I wasn ’ t like them . I felt like I wouldn ’ t be accepted if I didn ’ t look like them . My body was different , so to me , that meant it wasn ’ t good enough and I didn ’ t belong .
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