My body is not a battlefield.

The Joy Activist
3 min readFeb 11, 2021

For so long, I have forgotten that this body is simply a blessing. I am here is because of this body.

That time when my dad pinched my belly and said, “ Dear Lord, you are so fat. What have you been eaten?”

When my mother told the tailor lady, it has been difficult to find something that fit my chunky body.

When my aunt and uncle made fun of me because I am the only child in the family that is not “skinny” enough.

That time when I got bullied for dating this popular boy in high school. All the girls walked into my classroom and said, “ You are not pretty enough for him. Who do you think you are”.

Where was I when my body needs me the most? When that child needs someone to remind them that they are worthy and that they are beautiful.

Growing up, I barely hear the judgments towards my physical appearance. But there is this only one person who always bullies me. This person would pour out harsh comments about my body every single day. The more I try to avoid them, the stronger they come forward. And sadly enough, that person is me. When I could not fit into the pair of jeans I used to fit in; I got angry at my body. I torture this child with unworthiness, hate, and irritation. When I eat a slice of cake or indulge in chocolate, I beat myself up for being “unhealthy.” I punished my body with long hours of exercising to balance what I have eaten. I counted every single calorie of all the food I put in my mouth. I stopped going out to eat and isolated myself until I reached my weight goal. I bought all my clothes in the smaller size to “ motivate” my body to shrink. I thought that was love. But I did not know I was the one who hates my body the most. Not my parents, not the bullies, It was me. I betrayed myself all this time.

The journey to come back to unconditional love is tough and unpaved. There were multiple times I thought I had it, yet I realize there are so many pains rooted deeply inside my body that I must release. Sometimes, I put a bandaid over my wounds and prayed that they would heal. I was wrong. Healing is not about adding more, it is not about knowing more, and it certainly not about what you can get out of it. It is to understand, to cry, to beware, and accept.

Thank you for giving me strong legs to dance, hike, and travel.

Thank you for giving me arms to hug and hold my loved one.

Thank you for letting me see colors and the magnificent Mother Earth.

Thank you for the beautiful voice to sing, communicate and motivate.

Thank you for the ears to listen to melodic music that touches my soul.

My body is not a prize or a canvas. It is a gift of life. It is too vast to be measured by sizes. It is too unique to be compared. My body is precious. Even though I have abandoned it all this time, it is still here, striving to survive and wait for me to come home. And so, with pure love, devotion, and forgiveness, I spread out my arms and hug this body.

I am sorry, please forgive me.

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