Her body does beautiful things
I am 13 years old. Walking into gymnastics practice after school. I throw my leotard on just in time for running and conditioning. Looking at myself in the big mirror I compare myself against all my teammates as we line up; I wonder to myself if I stack up. Do I look like them? Am I too big? Am I too small? Am I just enough?
Flash forward a couple years…
I’m attending FlipFest Summer Gymnastics Camp located about 45 minutes away from Cookeville - home of CrossFit Mayhem. The CrossFit Games are on TV. I see how muscular, strong, feminine, beautiful, and how ‘against the grain’ their bodies look. I think to myself, “I want to look like them.” Growing up in gymnastics, I was constantly surrounded by muscular bodies. It was the norm. It was what I strived for until I walked outside the gym doors. Outside the gym doors it was a whole different world - at times it was just evil. At the time I had NO concept of what these female CrossFit bodies were capable of. I don’t think most people do understand until they’re in it themselves. Until they’re staring at a 300-lb. bar wondering how they're gonna pick it up. Their bodies are like machines. It’s no surprise they look like that. It’s a byproduct of their hard work.
Body dysmorphia
Restricting calories and constantly working out was my way of trying to change my body. The way I saw myself in the mirror wasn’t good enough. I would hold back extra parts of my skin, wishing it away, thinking to myself, “If this part of me was gone, I’d look better.” I can remember thinking to myself, “It’s supposed to be hard, I’m supposed to be hungry and tired, that must be how those girls are so muscular. They just starve themselves.” I got praised for my discipline and hard work. I would constantly mirror check myself to see if my body had changed or looked better….whatever “better”meant. I would often walk into the gym self-conscious about my body. At times, it would paralyze me. I felt people were constantly looking at me and judging me. Are they gonna think differently of me if I don’t have abs, or if I have cellulite on my legs? What are people going to think if I don’t look the part?
Binge eating
It was in the transition between quitting gymnastics and starting CrossFit that this became something that plagued me. At one point I was doing gymnastics three days a week and CrossFit three days a week for multiple hours each day, consuming a “whole” 1200 calories on the weekdays and then ultimately binging on the weekends. I was 16 years old. I was a teenager in high school silently fighting my own battles. I remember sitting in anatomy class barely being able to stay awake. Binge eating consumed a good two years - if not more - of my life. After being “good” on the weekdays by restricting and working out, it would all end on the weekends. I would eat a whole box of cookies, order Chinese, and then end it with a pint of ice cream. I had no control. My body was hungry. After my binge, I would be overwhelmed by the sense of guilt, leading me to restrict myself, and ultimately binge again. It was a repeating cycle that affected my life and my performance without anyone knowing.
Asking for help
The majority of the time I was suffering alone. I was embarrassed. I didn’t want anyone to know about it. I was afraid they would look at me differently and think I was broken. I had multiple nutrition coaches throughout my CrossFit journey thus far and none of them really knew my story. It takes vulnerability to say, “I need help. I think something’s wrong. I can’t do this on my own.” And quite frankly you have to be ready to open up. It took me a while to get to this point, but what helped me was seeing other people struggling with the same things. I suddenly felt I wasn’t alone. I would read captions on Instagram with other girls struggling with their bodies and food. I thought, “If they can share they’re struggling publicly to thousands of people, then I could share with one person.” As humans we long for belonging and a sense of connection. We’re less likely to share the most vulnerable parts of our life with someone if there’s even the slightest chance that we think we’re gonna be thought of as less than. But when we find that one person who’s been through it too, the fear of judgment vanishes and the sense of belonging appears.
Because of my coach’s vulnerability and willingness to share her story I felt comfortable to ask for help. It makes a world of difference when you know they’ve been in the same spot you’ve been in. Honesty, vulnerability, and openness have been the defining characteristics of our relationship.
Present day
My relationship with food and my body are like night and day. My performance is in a place I never would have imagined. This change didn’t happen overnight. In fact, it’s taken years of unlearning what I thought to be true or what I've been told what I should look like. It’s been taking two steps forward and then one step back. What’s the main difference between then and now? I eat a lot. I fuel my active body. I eat for performance, health, and enjoyment. They can all coexist. I stand up for myself. My body. News flash: you don’t owe anyone an explanation on why your body looks a certain way or why you eat what you eat. That’s for you. Only you.
I would be lying if I said I never dealt with thoughts about my body or food anymore, because I do. I just have the tools, information, knowledge, and support to know how to work through them. As coaches, we aren’t perfect. We were once in the same spot you were in. That’s why we want to help you so badly. The biggest game changer for me has been focusing on what my body can do, NOT what it looks like. No one cares if you look the part, but can’t actually do the part. I compete in a sport where what you look like doesn’t matter. What matters is how fast you can go, how heavy you can lift, and how much grit you have. I feel bad I ever looked at those girls on the TV screen at the CrossFit Games and my first thought was with how they looked and not how they were performing.
Society is so concerned with looks that we forget what really matters is what we do and how we act. I would tell the gymnast looking in the mirror that day she is enough. She’s more than enough because her body does beautiful things. And I love my body because of what it can do.
Share this post!
Related Posts
