When I was younger, my mom would make me stand in front of my bathroom mirror and say three things, out loud, that I like about myself. She had me do this exercise frequently, and specifically when I was feeling down and crying. It was incredibly uncomfortable, to have to face myself during some of my most vulnerable moments and state three things I like about myself. When I first started doing it, I’d say things like, “I like my eyelashes, my fingernails and my smile.” To be honest, I didn’t believe these things when I first started doing this. I said the first three things that came to mind because my mom refused to leave the room until I did it. It also usually ended with me laughing. I’ve almost always considered myself a bigger girl. Even when I was growing up, I remember always feeling and being bigger than most of my friends. This has continued into my adulthood, and I currently weigh the most I’ve ever weighed. However, when I look back at photos of myself from high school, I realize I wasn’t nearly as big as I felt during those years. I’ve also almost always considered myself to be one of the most confident women I know, as far as being comfortable in my skin. For years, people have asked me what I did to develop a positive body image and I’ve never really had a good answer. However as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that exercise my mom had me do had a lot to do with the confidence I have today. Truth be told, I don’t have a magical answer. The truth is, loving ourselves can be hard. Isn’t that crazy? We, as men and women, are conditioned to believe our bodies are supposed to look a certain way in society. Yes, in recent years, more plus size campaigns, models, clothing lines, celebrities, etc. have come forward to support plus size women and fashion. However, this idea that there is an “ideal” body image for women still exists. An article was published in “Forbes Magazine” about the movie “Miss Representation,” (which I highly recommend watching), and it listed out facts and statistics deemed alarming for women based off this documentary. One of the quotes are as follows,” 53% of 12 year old girls feel unhappy with their bodies, 78% of 17 year old girls feel unhappy with their bodies and 65% of women and girls have an eating disorder.” This is UNACCEPTABLE. (Mind you, these were statistics from 2011). I could write about all the ways in which we’re exposed to what the “ideal” woman’s body is supposed to look like, and the ramifications of such social constructs, but that’s an entirely separate blog post. What I will say is this: loving our bodies is difficult, and to some extent, I believe everyone struggles to embrace their bodies. But if there’s any advice I can give to anyone struggling with their body image, it’s to be intentional. Be mindful. Be purposeful. Be all of these things in the ways you think and talk about yourself. One thing you’ll never hear me say is anything degrading about my own body. Sure, I have days that I feel less attractive, but you will not hear me say things like, “I’m so fat,” or, “ugh, I hate my stomach, arms, legs, etc.” Change the way you talk about yourself! Speak the confidence into existence. For the record, I am not supporting unhealthy lifestyles. People often time want to make the argument that by me promoting positive body image, I’m supporting obesity, unhealthy eating habits, and lack of exercise. This is NOT what I am saying. What I am saying though, is hating ourselves is NOT a prerequisite to loving ourselves. We do not need to put ourselves down and shame ourselves in the process of getting our bodies where we want them to be. And we don’t need to hate ourselves if we’re not putting forth the effort yet to lose weight, or get more toned, or just live a healthier lifestyle. Work out BECAUSE you love your body. Eat right BECAUSE you love your body. Wear what makes you feel attractive and sexy BECAUSE you love your body. I am giving you permission to love your body!! I will close with this, confidence and positive body image doesn’t mean an absence of insecurities or flaws. It means embracing them. For example, my arms and my neck are probably my two biggest insecurities, mainly because they’ve changed the most as I’ve gained weight. However, I still don’t look in the mirror and pinch my arm fat and call myself disgusting. I put on the clothes that make me feel good, I look in the mirror (still very much so acknowledging that I don’t love my arms), and I speak positively of myself. I say things like, “yasss girl” or “dang, your booty looks nice girl.” I focus on the things I love, and I ACCEPT the things I don’t. We don’t need to live our lives in shame, disgust and self-hatred. The exercise my mom made me do in the mirror taught me two important things. First of all, it taught me that loving and accepting ourselves in our most vulnerable moments, AND learning to show our vulnerabilities compassion is by the far the most powerful thing we can do. Vulnerability is beautiful, and it is where inspiration comes from. Let yourself be and feel vulnerable, honor it, embrace it and choose to love yourself anyway. Second, it taught myself that by changing the way I talked about myself, I changed the way I thought about myself. Change the language you use. It’s okay to be imperfect, love yourself anyway. ABOUT THE AUTHOR I’m a family therapist/social worker at a local non-profit. I currently reside in Iowa, where I was born and raised. I am most passionate about topics related to mental health and positive body image, and try to be a voice for individuals who struggle in these areas. I’m a dog mom of two terrible dogs, but I love them dearly. In my free time, I spend time with family and friends, love on my dogs, and watch a lot of Netflix.
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What people don’t understand about multiracial relationships and families. My family is pretty cute (just look at the pictures). My husband is a handsome, Haitian African-American, college-educated chef. I’m a quirky, full-time marketing professional, rockstar mom. Our 2.5-year-old son, Rufus, has amazing complexion, awesome hair, and a charming personality. Some people see and appreciate the cuteness, and others loathe it. Yes, it is 2019, and some people still don’t like seeing multiracial couples and families. Now, just wait. I’m going to unleash my journalism background for two sentences: According to the 2010 U.S. Census, 2.9% of the population reported themselves as multiracial, and 15.1% of all new marriages were between spouses of a different race or ethnicity. Interracial (the term used in the law) marriages has only been fully legal in the U.S. since 1967 -- that’s only 52 years ago; thank you, Lovings. You’d think that after 52 years of legality interracial families would start to feel and look like the norm; nope! We still have people staring at us, saying ridiculous things, and making or giving rude body gestures toward us. My least favorite uncomfortable, yet common interactions include:
Yesterday I had to remind five of my closest friends “Multiracial family living is just tricky sometimes.” And then it was crickets. No one responded. They consider themselves progressive, all-accepting, “woke” citizens, and yet they can’t understand why we wouldn’t want to live in Alabama or Georgia with them. One said to me before my reminder, “Yeah, but there are a lot of magnificent Black enclaves in the south!” But, what about me?! I’m not Black. How are those enclaves going to accept me? I’m sorry, but you are not that woke!! This past fall, Rogers Park (our old neighborhood in Chicago) had a series of unsolved murders, and the suspect was around 6’, slim, wore all black, and wore a mask. People assumed he was black, and the racial profiling began. Mike, who matches the physical description and who happens to wear a black coat, had to be cautious while walking to the bus stop, just four blocks away. He had to make sure he looked friendly and wasn’t wearing his hood. Now just stop for a second and reflect on this. Can you imagine having to worry about being safe while walking just four blocks from your home? Something you’ve done every day for the past five years. Can you imagine having to look friendly at 5 AM, every day? That is what Mike had to do for more than a month! We stopped walking around the neighborhood after 5 PM when the sun started to set. Our white friends kept pushing us to go out with them or to stay later at the playground or at their homes. They couldn’t look past their white privilege to see that we don’t have the luxury of just going out whenever we want. One even snarkily suggested that it would be ok since I’m white. Ahhhh! Just because I’m white, it doesn’t cancel out my husband’s or son’s blackness. If someone doesn’t like black people they’re not going to care if I’m white and I’m walking with them. When I brought up the point of not feeling safe or feeling uneasy about the chance of being profiled, our friends felt embarrassed and began to understand that they’re not that “woke” [side note: I hate the term “woke,” but I feel like the people who use that term are the most “unwoke.”]. It’s nice to be in a circle of friends “who don’t see color,” but sometimes they, and everyone, need to see color to recognize privileges and how certain actions or current events can affect people of color and multiracial families. Here are some tips and considerations to make when talking and interacting with multicultural families, people, and couples: 1.) Don’t touch a person of color’s hair. Do you like your hair touched? 2.) If you’re going to talk about cultural appropriation, consider how someone who is of multiple cultures fits into the discussion. Don’t assume anything, and don’t think that just because one of your friends is OK with something that every person of color is OK with it. 3.) It is never OK to share racist thoughts or generalizations about any race 4.) It is OK to ask how the current political environment affects our every-day lives, but be ready to hear the truth and to give your support. 5.) We want to be an environment where our kids feel safe and don’t feel like outsiders. Please consider promoting environments that showcase all cultures so they can see representations of themselves. I should note that these tips and considerations may not be important to all multicultural units. Next time you happen upon a cute, multicultural family or couple just realize that they are still, most likely, facing adversities. Our woke culture is still not that woke. ABOUT THE AUTHOR Katie is a thirty-something wife and mom who happens to do marketing for a nonprofit legal technology association. She is a Des Moines, Iowa native but has lived in Syracuse, NYC, and Chicago. She recently moved to Easton,PA and is yearning for better weather so she can have human interaction that isn’t virtual (she works remotely). She had a deep appreciation for her family, food, beer, and spontaneous adventures. If you have talked to my husband you might hear him say “I'm the luckiest guy I know.” At first you might think “awww how sweet,” but then when you hear why he says that...you will have a different take on it. At the age of 12, my husband was diagnosed a type 1, insulin dependent diabetic. At such a young age, he was informed of some tough things that he would have to endure in his lifetime due to this horrible disease. One of them is not a long healthy life. Diabetes is rough on your body. It’s a maddening disease. He had to grow up very quickly and realize that life isn't fair, but you have to make the most of it. Fast forward to the beginning of our relationship; he was 32 and was healthy (minus the stitches, many broken bones, and other injuries he’d experienced over the years). It was hard for me to wrap my head around diabetes at first, because my only diabetes experience was with my grandma and I knew it was difficult for her to adjust. So having found someone that I want to spend the rest of my life with being diabetic, it was a learning curve to say the least. So we knew that at some point in his life something drastic with his health would happen due to the diabetes. It’s a fun little waiting game. But what ultimately happened was not one we were remotely ready for. He had a massive heart attack at 40. And when I say massive, it was a "widow maker"; 95% blockage in the meat of his heart and 2 other 95% blockages. The craziest part.. he didn't even feel it. We were told by the hospital staff, had we not come in when we did I would have been making different arrangements that day. Imagine hearing that about your 40 year old husband (oh and I was 6 weeks pregnant with our daughter at the time). There were a lot of crazy things about that day. I happened to call him (in the moments following his "symptoms") to talk about work. Then he told me what had just happened to him. All things that were just strange but he normally wouldn't mention. For whatever reason I felt a strong need to get him to the hospital. He drove to the hospital; hindsight probably not our best decision. Why? Why did I feel that need? Why did he feel the need to tell me what happen? Why? They placed a stent in the LAD (the widow maker artery) and within hours he was walking, eating, like nothing happened. Then two days later they placed 3 more stents in another area of his heart. We walked out of the hospital like what just happened?! He was back to work less than a week later. Over the course of the next couple years he has had 6 heart catheterizations. One where they placed 3 more stents (which brought the total to 7). With close monitorying by the cardiologist, we were told some information that we had never heard before. “One of the main reasons that you had the heart attack was because of diabetes.” Excuse me? That wasn't in the pamphlet when you became a diabetic. It affects your circulatory system. My husband also had the privilage of having cardiac disease in his family history, so he just won the lottery of genetics. This is not why he says he is the luckiest man he knows. Due to having lots of check ups with his doctors to make sure that he is doing well, he started having a new symptom; headaches. He is not a headache person so this was something that his family doctor felt was worth looking into. Buckle up because this is where this story get good! The MRI revealed an aneurysm in his brain. Right carotid artery in the sinus region. I'm sorry… what? I remember that phone call with him telling me what the doctor said. Seriously? Heart and brain? Come on!!!!!!!! More imaging and a meeting with a neurosurgeon down at the University of Iowa. They decided they need to do an angiogram and see if there was anything that needed done. This was October of 2017. Once they went in they decided that the risk of medical intervention was higher than monitoring it because it was so small in size. Oh fun, now we get to sit and wait and hope nothing happens. So in February of 2018 another cardiac cath was done, which lead to some new medication, which lead to the worst headache of his life, which lead us to the er, which lead to them realizing that the aneurysm had grown 30%. Now what? Back to Iowa City a mere 6 months after being told we were going to wait a year. At that appointment it was decided that since it had gotten larger we needed to address it. At first the doctor suggested placing a stent but there were more long term risks (stroke, possibility of movement and so on). So because my husband is also a take charge kind of guy he asks for a more permanent correct. That option was a craniotomy and a clip of the aneurysm. Surgery was going to be brutal and so was recovery as they cut your skull open, but long term; less risks. And that was settled, Let's do the hard work now so long term there shouldn't be any. April 20th 2018; surgery day. The surgery was going to be 5 hours (waiting is not my forte) and we knew that recovery was going to be rough. 4 days in the hospital and 2-3 weeks recovering at home (not to mention a giant incision). Surgery went well but the aneurysm was a lot worse than expected. We were told at a later date that a rupture was imminent. Those aren't things you want to hear about your husband. So before we left the hospital they wanted to do another angiogram to make sure the surgery was a success. That Monday April 23rd they did a follow up angiogram where they had to place a stent, because they weren't satisfied with the previous surgery. The doctor came out and told me, and said that he would be resting for a while then back to our room. 20 minutes later that same doctor came back out and proceeded to tell me that my husband had become paralyzed on his left side and that they were taking him to ICU to monitor. Excuse me what?! Didn't you just come out and tell me things were ok?? I raced to ICU to hurry up and wait… an hour (actually 53 minutes - yes I was counting) Finally I was able to see him and they told us that he had responded well to some "clot busting" meds and had recovered. But when I saw him I knew he was not ok. He couldn't find where to look with his left eye (his right eye was still swollen from surgery) and he couldn't feel me touch his face. From there it went from 0 to 100 really quick. They did all the normal neuro testing and he had no feeling at all on his left side again. They asked him to bend his knee, “well that would require me to bend it.” Is this your hand? "Nope not mine." In moments we quickly realized that this was not good. I had to sign consent for them to go back in to correct this. So they whisked him away to hopefully remedy this. It was like watching a movie - total out of body experience. It was like midnight after being up all day, your body is just in utter shock. So we waited (one of our friends had been with us the whole time during this procedure). They brought him back and said things went well and informed us that this doesn't happen very often. They had found a clot inside of the stent and were able to remove it. He had recovered all feeling. The next 24 hours were beyond scary. We were on edge and just couldn't relax with the hopes that nothing would go wrong. We later discovered that this was a stroke. It caused a very large portion of his brain to die off; he is lucky because it was not his dominant side so he was able to completely recover (with a few glitches). Once we finally left the hospital (12 days later) we were sent directly to St Lukes for 6 days of inpatient therapy, followed by 8 weeks of outpatient physical and occupational therapy. He was off work for 6 weeks. He was able to go back part-time for a month then full time since the end of July. When we followed up with his surgeon he was amazed at how well he was going. The rarity of what happened is 2 out of 600 similar cases. My lucky husband was #2. Remember when I said my husband says he is the luckiest guy he knows… well know you know why Watching someone you love go through something like that is something I struggle to put into words. One of our friends said I had a front row seat to a horror film I didn't buy a ticket to. It was like a nightmare that you couldn't shake. It was an out of body experience for me for sure and I can't imagine what was going through my husband’s mind at the time. There are so many vivid memories that I have from those days in the hospital and those late night hours with horrible news being told to me. But there are so many things that took my breath away, like when he got up for the first time following the stroke. It reminded me of watching our daughter walk for the first time. That was a picture of what our future could have been. Could he do it? Would he struggle? But man, oh man, he walks just fine. Many people have asked us, “how do you do it?” You just do… that's how. You have no choice but to be strong and hope for the best because things could always be worse, right? I still get to take him to doctors appointments, I get to lay down next to him every night, I get to watch him be a daddy to our little girl. It could be worse… so much worse. I guess I am a lucky one too.
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