“I am my own holy revolution (…), I am awake and alive, I’ve come to wear all of the crop tops that the glittering world has to offer, I’ve come to dance the shame out of my childhood, I’ve come to win back my joy. You may not snatch it from me like a purse. I win whether I have a mouth full of pretzels or a mouth full of kale; you have not been granted the privilege to know how I consume my world and what makes me most delight in my skin. I will glorify (…) my body.”
I cried the first time I read those words, which are from Mary Lambert’s “Body Love”. Self-love is always something that has been difficult for me. Some people may say that that’s a problem for most women, but my insecurity stemmed from something I couldn’t control.
I’m Bridget, I’m a college senior, and I have cerebral palsy.
Cerebral palsy, or CP, is different for each person. In my case, I have hemiplegia, which is CP centered in your left side. The doctors didn’t know if I would walk, but with three major surgeries and a ton of therapy, I have done that- and much more. However, the surgeries left me with five scars on my chest and legs, which left me terribly self-conscious.
For as many positive things people have said about my body, there have been negative thoughts waiting to tear those words down. As I got older, especially in high school, I got more and more tough on myself. If I couldn’t control how my body looked, I would criticize every inch of it, down to the scar I’d had my entire life. Little did I know that nitpicking my body had manifested into criticizing other areas of my life. The self-hate turned to anxiety, even though my carefree attitude seemed to not care a bit what others thought of me. I would laugh and joke with friends, and participate in extracurriculars. A select group of family and friends knew about all the things that were going on in my head, and that’s how I would’ve liked to keep it.
Flash forward to this summer. I was sitting on the floor of my room, tears streaming down my face. It had been a particularly bad day, and the overthinking and hatred were at an all-time high. It seemed like the bad thoughts just wouldn’t stop. Everything around me seemed hopeless; like all of these things I had been going through just wouldn’t end.
I picked up my phone, and texted what I call my top 3: my boyfriend, my closest neighbor from back home, and a group text with five of my closest Smicks, who we had deemed The Codependency.
“It’s getting really bad. The anxiety… The body hate… it’s bad. SOS, please.”
Within a couple of minutes, I got a barrage of replies, and a call from my boyfriend, telling me it was going to be okay. The Smicks, especially, surrounded me with love and affection, complete with a few “yaaaas queen”s. These people sometimes understood me better than I understood myself. While all of this was going on, I got up and stood before my full-length mirror, staring at the reflection.
Why did all this hate have to go on all of the time? No matter how much I criticized, it was never going to change or get better. Being negative wasn’t going to make this physical, and even mental battle better. Why had it taken me so long to realize this?
I made a promise to myself that night. Even though I know there will still be bad days, I will try and love myself as much as I know how. I am so much more than cerebral palsy or scars. I have a sense of humor. I’m compassionate. I’m so many more things than “the girl with CP.” I love lipstick and social media and writing. I deserve to love myself.
Four days later, I wore my first crop top ever.
It’s the little changes, right?
“Whatever makes you happy, put in your world.”
Photo provided by the author
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