is that I've simply stopped worrying about it. I quit buying fashion magazines years ago. I don't have the hegemonic body, and I don't worry about it. I am what I am.

I agree with the author that one need not have strong feelings about your body. Loving one's body is extremely difficult with the messages we as women are exposed to, but I do think it's possible to stop worrying about it and devote our energies to other concerns.

If you have anything that most people would consider a serious flaw. Like being overweight, by a lot. Or have a big nose. Or if you have scars. Whatever, something that makes people uncomfortable. And you love your body, people will still say very unkind things about you. And some will say you are conceited and clearly have no business being conceited because you have thunder thighs, a big nose, or some scars. But, if you say you hate those things then well you are not emotionally healthy and you should just accept yourself for what you are. It is the ultimate double standard and there is no way to win that game.

I am glad someone has decided they just would rather not play at all and has articulated the very best reasons as to why not. I don't love my body right now either and it has nothing to do with the way I look. I would hate my body right now if I looked like a super model (I don't not by a long shot) I hate my body because I am chronically fatigued and unless that changes I am not going to be in love with my body no matter what else changes.

She had me at 'fuck you'

But I've read other essays I like just as well, where body image isn't so much about love, but respect--respect for the medium that allows you to experience, life, I guess. The legs that allow you to walk or run or the arms and hands that allow to do so many things, eyes and ears and taste buds etc.

I also think there's no feeling of betrayal greater than when your body betrays you by disease, or chronic conditions. People deal with it, often come to some sort of acceptance or partial acceptance-- but there's a lot of anger or even rage.

Personally, I'm a fan of rage, as long as it isn't the consuming or destructive type. I enjoy getting an unholy mad on every once in a while.

I think because now I know I am not going to wake up tomorrow and be better. I seriously believed that I was going to wake up one day and it would be over I would be fine. Or at least I would start feeling better and incrementally get back to where I was before I got sick. That isn't happening and now I am finally pissed off about it.

He knows there's no cure, he knows maintaining is the best we can do. One day, out of the blue, on top of all his other symptoms he developed tinnitus. Goddam I was pissed. I still get pissed, and I'm not the one with the damn disease. It was like really? Really? He has to go through that horrible shit now?

So I rage by proxy because its happening to a fine man. He gets pissed and frustrated and sometimes I think we laugh so much together because its better than crying. (Other times I know it's because we both have demented senses of humor)

There are almost always secondary sufferers. Sometimes I wonder if the whole family shouldn't have some kind of support system. It's just as hard being the person who is watching the person they love go through being sick.

Laughing is better than crying. I am not a laughing yet. In a lot of ways it is like I just got sick within the last couple of weeks. So, maybe I will be at laughing at some point, but it won't be today probably not tomorrow. Maybe sometime after I come out of the closet. Up til now, I have done everything I can to appear to not be sick. It's not all that hard when I don't go out much and it's not like a lot of people aren't tired so I sort of blend in because of that.

I hope your husband has lots of good days and the symptoms tend to the mild side. But, I have the feeling this is not the case. But, at least you have each other and that really does count for a lot. One thing I have learned in all this is that my SO really does treasure the time we do spend together and doesn't pressure me to do more than I can anymore, now that he is coming to grips with what it really means to be sick and tired all the time.

My wife has been suffering with back, neck & shoulder problems for years. in 2012 she had some surgeries and now we are in the process of a very, very long recovery. It has not been fun for either of us and there are times it's frustrating for her as well as me.

You are right no one gets sick in a vacuum and your post came at a good time.. Thanks!

The doctors think it is either NMO or MS, blood test will hopefully shed more light. I've been quite sick for many years, worse every year, and was glad for the MRI that showed the giant spinal lesion and the smaller ones in my brain, as well as the oligoclonal bands in my lumbar puncture. They misdiagnosed me as having GBS until the MRI showed CNS trouble.

It is just such a relief to have proof after having run into a couple of male military docs (both Mormons, who tend towards misogyny) who told me my symptoms were all in my head and behaved with such condescension and lack of empathy towards me. Wish I could shove this evidence down their throats but they wouldn't care anyway. Such men are incapable of caring.

Right now I am just so grateful for the proof that I feel less angry at my body than before. But who knows what tomorrow will bring?

I am sorry for everyone who suffers with chronic disease and chronic pain.

from the lousy teeth and eyesight I inherited to the autoimmune diseases I somehow acquired. Then when I turned 50, the damn thing got fat on me.

I agree with Frida Kahlo. If there is a resurrection of the flesh, I want mine to have been reduced to ashes and scattered on the wind. I don't want this one back.

of the old psychobabble about not being a victim without wanting to be. That a battered wife was only a victim because she allowed it, or secretly/subconsciously liked being a victim. That she was to blame for it. Such BS.

I can't tell you how much this hurt me. For years I felt re-traumatized by the idea that it was my fault that my father was abusive, and then later my husband. The position I was put in was a lose-lose one. And it took years for society to catch up with the truth.

I've felt a twinge of the same injustice every time I have heard the "love your body no matter what" crap. But it was never that important to me because, sadly, my body was one the few things about myself I didn't hate.

I liked it. I still do, even with its middle-aged flaws. I developed a belly a few years back, and a spent a few seconds deciding what to do about it. Meh. Outside of health concerns, I don't chase the tiger of work outs like I used to.

But then, I've had feminism for all of my adult years. Feminism allowed me to have a healthy attitude, and while I enjoyed being in excellent shape/health for many years, I'm also enjoying not trying to being 32 in a 52 year old body. If I choose to take it up again, I will. If I need to for health reasons, I will. I just don't worry about it.

Edit to add, I even like my scars, each one tells a story, which is as woo woo as I get, I don't have huge ones or anything; my favorite is one on the back of my arm that looks like a very thin knife slash.

It was actually from a patient with dementia who was fighting when I worked in Long Term Care, we were trying to clean her up, and somehow one of her fungus ridden toenail scraped he back of my arm. I love show and tell with new nurses with that one.

BTW, I noticed that your avatar (and I realize you're not the one who wrote this, but it still drew my eye) is Stephen Hawking. If anybody on earth would be entitled to hate his body, it would be him, because his body makes it so excruciatingly difficult to get the most jawdropping ideas from his brain and out into the world. I wonder how he feels about his body. Maybe he hates it, or maybe he only hates the illness that has caused him so much trouble. I think there's a difference; I think the bodies of people with any chronic or autoimmune disease are victims just as much as are the people who live in them, and who would hate anybody or anything for being a victim? Anyway, that's all a tangent because this writer isn't talking about disease but about how she falls short of the ideal. (Although... who doesn't? Are we all supposed to hate our bodies once our flaws add up to a certain level of hideousness? Because I do not want to participate in that.)

I think she's trying to make a good point--that it shouldn't be necessary to love our bodies. Okay, fine, although she still seems kind of disdainful towards hers, which she wouldn't do if she truly felt detached from the whole concept. It still kind of seems as though she's saying she doesn't like her body and never will because it is "not beautiful" (her words). Well, gee. I guess that depends on how you define beautiful, because I think any kind of meat suit that keeps you alive is pretty damn miraculous, whatever it looks like.

As I get older I am not exultantly loving my wrinkles and all the other things that time has added to a body that was never anything to write home about to begin with. I had issues about my body when I was 20; those same issues apply now that I'm twice that age plus a bit. And time has added some additional flaws I could worry about; while I'm not ashamed of the crevice between my eyebrows, if I could make it go away I most certainly would, and that goes double for the way my butt looks in a dressing room mirror. But now I have learned the difference between acceptance and admiration. I would say I love my body, but not in a "I'm a Goddess!" way, just in a "thanks for the hard work" way.

I think there's a difference between loving one's body's appearance (especially when the cultural context makes it difficult) and loving one's body because it is a darned useful piece of equipment, even when it's not the newest and flashiest model. It seems (although maybe it's just my failure to understand) that she's still using cultural contexts to judge her body against when she says "fuck you" to anybody who might try to point out that an appreciation for her body might be appropriate whatever it looks like.

It's not necessary for her to hate her body--no matter what it looks like, I guarantee there are people out there with the exact same shape who are rocking it and feeling great about themselves. I suspect that the most likely difference is that they have a different emotional history. I appreciate her attitude but I also still feel sad for her, mostly because her writing suggests that she is still sad too.

She kind of rode an edge in her essay, affirming herself and scolding others for telling her what to feel. She made very good points about the pressures of society and appearance. I posted up thread a bit I've read essays I love, about giving your body the respect it deserves, as much as you can, because it is the medium you experience the world through.

I choose Steven Hawking because I love science, and because of what he's accomplished despite his appearance and disabilities. Also as a trick, avatars can give a certain impression of appearance or personality. And you're absolutely right about him.

She is so right on. Thanks for posting it.

"beauty, self worth" thing.

good stuff