It’s Thanksgiving, which means three things. First, we should think about things for which we’re thankful. Second, we should eat a lot of food with people we like. Third, because I believe we can let two seemingly opposing realities sit together, we should remember this holiday has a terrible history that we choose to forget so we can honor the tradition of baking pumpkin pie. For today’s post, I’m just going to focus on the first. Rather, on one item in particular.
It’s easy for me to feel bad about my body, especially on a day dedicated to eating. I’m bombarded with messages of my inadequacy and, sometimes, they win. But, today, I’m thankful for my healthy, happy body. I’m thankful I can go for long walks and kinda long runs. I’m thankful I can type these words and think about black holes. I’m thankful I can carry my own suitcase to the airport and pick up my best friend’s baby and swim laps in a pool. But no matter how hard I tell myself to worry only about my progress toward a pull-up, I can’t get that little voice—the one that whispers critiques at the mirror—out of my head.
That doesn’t mean I can’t quiet her down. To honor my strong self, tomorrow I’m hiking up a mountain. It feels like I’ve been climbing up a mountain for awhile now, but this will be a real life, made-of-rock mountain. When I get to the top, I’m going to have a snack and spread my arms wide to the sky.