Down with body dysmorphia

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Marianne Williamson’s wrote in A Woman’s Worth “your playing small serves no one.” This reminder rings in my ears when I diminish myself. As women we’re often taught that self-deprecation is humility. It is not. If we dismiss our bodies, their function or their construction, we dismiss ourselves. We gain nothing in the equation, and the people with whom we share these dark secrets gain nothing from them either.

For years of our lives women have gotten together and bashed their bodies with talk of weight around the middle, fat thighs, or flat boobs. Seriously? We’ve bound ourselves together in our “lack” so as to make each other feel better. Instead, we should interrupt any comment that beats up one’s self (whether our own self-talk or that of a friend)  to say “you are beautiful, just as you are. Perfect.”

Let’s stand in awe of our bodies, celebrate their miracle. Let’s shake them. Move them. Groove our bodies. Let’s really examine how it feels to live in them, instead of outside them.

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