“Babe you should come to the gym with me. You always have a six pack after sex, your body is almost perfect! If you just hit the gym a couple times a week you’d be on point.”
-my boyfriend to 19 year old me

I remember that day.

The sheets on the bed were crimson red that day. I was standing in front of the mirror having just pulled on my Express jeans. Still topless. My eyes went to the birthmark by my naval when he said it. I saw the little lines of the six pack when those same eyes zoomed out to see the whole girl. I was getting ready to leave for work and, well, libido of a 19 year old 🤷🏻‍♀️ I don’t remember what I said back though. I did make it to work that day, and I can honestly say I probably didn’t think much of that statement consciously after that for a while.

In his defense, we were both kids and he was trying to get me to love something he loved and share it with him. Young love is always fumbled words and missed gestures. And if we’re being honest I said a bucket full of dumb shit then too. We grow. We learn. We heal.

That statement though? That statement has DEFINED my outlook on fitness and physique for the last about 15 years. It’s also played a big part in my self worth without me even noticing it. Even if I don’t remember blinking twice about it that day or in that moment.

I heard it at 22 when I jumped in a cab to Queens at 4am to meet my boo and I was pissed we ate appetizers at the bar earlier that night.

I heard it at 27 when I moved into my apartment with my boyfriend of 2 years because now I wouldn’t have time to “stay lean” before he saw me each time. He was always going to see me.

I heard it at 29 when I had gained 45 lbs and finally dragged my ass into Orangetheory because I REALLY couldn’t stand myself anymore.

I heard it at 32 when the man I was sleeping with told me I had the most perfect body he’d seen on a woman and I shouldn’t change a thing. Ever.

That statement lives (yup still there some days!) rent free in my mind 15 years later.

On most days I know I have a self worth and confidence that speaks the COMPLETE opposite of that statement.

The funny part is I’m either heavily praised for my confidence or chastised for the audacity of its existence in the first place. But the fact of the matter is that sometimes how we choose to show up and how we get there in the first place aint all that different than the people around us.

We’re all fighting the same battle here. And by the looks of legislation as of late, that statement rings true now more than ever. We are not alone.

That statement lives rent free in my head and I am just learning how to remember what to answer back and make it strong enough to keep remembering.

What I mean to say is I’m just starting to call my body home and She belongs to me.

What I choose to do with Her belongs to me. And in all ways Yours should belong to You.

Stand up for Her. Take care of Her. Be kind. To Her.

Epilogue:

Men, if your reading this. Read the last paragraph.

Now read it again until it f*cking sticks.