“My body has been good to me so far. No broken bones, for example, and it has withstood the lack of consideration I gave it in my youth when taking vitamins and using sunblock was, at best, an afterthought.”
“I have muscular legs. When I was in high school, I couldn’t get boots to fit over my calves, and it bothered me. I envied girls with thin, long legs. In society, the messaging back then, even around fitness, was not to get bulky. It deemed visible muscles and strength unfeminine. That has since changed, mostly, even though I still see magazines and fitness gurus use terminology to assure girls and women that X, Y, or Z program will allow them to build lean muscles instead of bulk, reinforcing an archaic idea of what they should look like. Now that I’m in my 40s, I like that my legs are strong. I only wish my arms were equally so.”
“I grew up in a somewhat diverse suburb, but there weren’t many people who were Latinx. Though I would never have admitted it at the time, there was a period when I really wanted to fit in and conform. I wish that I’d loved myself and my body more back then and embraced just being me.”
“I’m pear-shaped; I have a petite upper body but have a butt, and I’m short, which meant finding the perfect jeans was the ultimate challenge. Most stores carried clothes with measurements based on an Anglo frame, so pants were too tight on my rear, too loose in the waist, and way, way too long. It was deflating. At some point, designers figured out that we girls and women aren’t all shaped the same.”
“I love my feet. That probably sounds weird. They aren’t even attractive, but instead squat and
wide at the front and narrow at the heel. I did ballet growing up, and my feet are strong, and I like that. They have gotten me through so much, helping me walk away from dead-end jobs and bad relationships, and they’ve brought me joy through dancing and walking my sweet babies back and forth when they were newborns. They have gotten me through so many milestones in life.”