I have been thinking about my body for a while.
Physically, my body has made it pretty hard for me to forget it over the past few years. It’s that feeling when you have tonsillitis and you realise how often you swallow and you wish you could go back to not noticing.
I also saw quite a lovely photo blog recently from a mum who photographed herself with her slightly bulging tummy and stretch marks and said she refuses to feel negatively about them as all the while she was trying for a baby she would have given anything to have said indicators of motherhood.
A third point: I was with a friend recently and we were talking about how our bodies have changed and she said something along the lines of wishing she could tell her younger self to feel more confident in her appearance as she would now give much to look like that again.
And there’s the crux of it. It doesn’t really matter what you look like, the confidence to forget about yourself is a luxury. There’s a multi-million pound beauty industry that works daily to ensure we don’t forget ourselves. There’s make-up and diet fads to sell to us after all.
Pain does not allow me to forget my body. Even on a good day I don’t have the confidence to break into a run for the bus. To jump up and down in the playground with my children. Sometimes the fear of the pain is as inhibiting as the pain itself.