On body image, self-love, family, and learning to love ourselves while we're still becoming.

This morning I saw myself on a podcast I did, and it caught me off guard. I got in my head. I do not look like I feel; do you know what I mean? I look particularly unflattering in the shot. Seeing that, recognizing me, took my breath away; it's a reckoning with my past thoughts and actions. It did not feel good, but it was important for me. Doing podcasts, this can happen; we don't get to choose our camera setup, but it's not just the angle; it's my doing. I am also getting ready to meet one of my new-to-me brothers for the very first time, just after Thanksgiving, and I'm feeling it all! For those of you who know my story, I had a DNA discovery at 50 that changed what I understood about my biological family. And now, 7 years later, I'm looking forward to meeting someone who shares a part of my biology but hasn't yet shared my life. It's a big deal to me.

And I want to look my best. I've been a curvy girl all my life. I've been working hard to heal all my wounds; my reaction to that interview this morning teaches me that I still have a long way to go. Somewhere in the excitement of preparing to meet my brother, I caught myself wishing I was further along in my weight-loss journey and my healing journey. I had a moment that I felt like canceling. I also noticed in a conversation this week with another brother that I said, "I wear my problems on the outside." My stress hides from no one; it's not something I can shield.

The Body That Has Been Carrying Me

I have a degree in Integrative Nutrition and NLP. I've spent more than 36 years working in the healing arts. I am an expert at helping other people take care of themselves, but taking care of me? EEEk, I had never put myself on my own list- well, I have in the last few years, but I would say not truly before I turned 50. I have always been a great caregiver, helper, friend, and coach. I have so much water in my chart! I was always a great problem solver. I am also an intuitive, the person who could figure things out for everybody else. And somewhere along the way, I stopped paying attention to what my own body needed.

I think sometimes we get so used to running on steam that we forget ourselves.

I remember being in the hospital with my mom when she was very sick with ovarian cancer. Doctor after doctor came into her room. First, someone who specialized in her heart. Then her pulmonologist. Then specialists for her liver and kidneys. I remember sitting there, thinking about something I'd never really considered before: each organ had its own needs. I mean, yes, of course I knew that; I studied anatomy and physiology in school, but in the moment, I got it differently. I'd always thought of the body as one big system. Of course, I understood that we have different organs. But watching all these specialists come in to care for individual parts of my mother's body snapped me into thinking about my own body differently.

My heart, my kidneys, my liver. All these extraordinary parts of me, working every single day to keep me alive. And I started thinking about how I'd been treating them. How many times had I celebrated with food? "Oh, let's go to lunch!" "Oh, let's celebrate with dinner!" "Let's have dessert!" "Let's get a treat!"

Now, please don't misunderstand me. I love a yummy meal, and I absolutely believe food should be enjoyed. But I had developed habits where food wasn't always about nourishment, hunger, or even enjoyment. Sometimes it was how I celebrated or stopped feeling, where I ran to. I also have an autoimmune disease that treats me to a very slow metabolism. Food was a tool I used; sometimes it comforted me. Sometimes it was how I avoided what I was feeling. I ate without much thought for what my body actually needed; I just went unconscious.

Sitting in that hospital room, something clicked. My organs hadn't done anything wrong. My heart was not responsible for my mom's pain. My kidneys didn't kill my sweet cat…So why was I treating my body as though it deserved to carry the punishment for everything I'd been through? That was a powerful realization for me. It started changing how I thought about taking care of myself, taking care of each organ, my body. Not from a place of shame. From a place of gratitude.

We Are Not Our Packaging

That got me thinking about something I talk about all the time in my work. We are not our packaging. We're not our weight. We're not the number on the scale. We're not our jobs, our titles, our bank accounts, or the size of our clothes.

Our packaging changes. It changes as we age. It changes when we're sick. It changes when we're healthy. It changes when we go through difficult times, and sometimes it changes in ways we never expected. Some of those changes feel wonderful, and others can feel disappointing. But underneath it all, we're still here. And I want to talk about what it means to love ourselves right now, love, not just when we become the version of ourselves we're working toward.

What Happens When We Go Unconscious?

I use the word unconscious to describe those moments when we're no longer making intentional choices. We're reacting. We're angry, so we eat. We're hurting, so we drink. We're overwhelmed, so we yell. We're anxious, so we reach for something that might make us feel better NOW. We use all kinds of things to avoid sitting with what we're feeling. And before we know it, we've handed the steering wheel over to our emotions.

I want to be clear that I'm not talking about blaming ourselves for having feelings or for struggling with habits that can be difficult to shift out of or change. I mean noticing and reacting differently when possible. Because awareness allows us to make a different choice, and that's where ReCalibration begins. We notice. We get curious. We ask ourselves what we actually need. And then, little by little, we begin coming back to ourselves.

Sometimes I Literally Have to Shake It Off!

When I'm feeling overwhelmed or anxious, one of my favorite things to do is stand up and shake my body. Literally. I shake my arms. I shake my legs. I shake my whole body. And in my spiritual practice, I imagine sending all that heavy energy down into the earth and asking the Universe to transmute it into love. Weird, usually. Does it help me? Absolutely. And yes, every time I talk about shaking it off, I still hear Taylor Swift in my head. LOL!

Then I put on music, and I dance. Usually with the blinds closed because, well, some things are just between me and me! 😂 Right before I sat down to write this, I was having a little dance break. I had a funk station playing, and one of my favorite OG songs came on: "More Bounce to the Ounce," by Zapp and Roger. I was laughing so hard! Because here I am, getting ready to write about being a zaftig woman, loving myself, and finding joy in the middle of change. And the Universe hands me "More Bounce to the Ounce." Well, lovie, I've got plenty of bounce! And I'm going to enjoy every bit of it while I'm working on becoming healthier and even happier.

I also have a little mini trampoline, a rebounder, that I've had for about seven years, and yep, every single time I get on that thing, I giggle. Every time! Something about bouncing or rebounding takes me right back to being a kid. No expectations. No pressure. Just joy. And we need more of that, especially when we're going through something difficult.

 

Finding Our Way Back Into Our Bodies

What works for me may not work for you. We're not one-size-fits-all. And I don't want to hand you a magical four-step process and pretend it'll work for everybody. A few things that help me when I notice I've become disconnected from myself. Sometimes I move. Sometimes I dance. Sometimes I bounce on my little trampoline. I also love to and need to sit quietly.

I love meditation, but oh my goodness, if I'm really anxious, sometimes I can't meditate. My mind won't settle. So instead of fighting with myself, I start somewhere easier. I think of one memory that makes me happy. I let that feeling wash over me like a sparkly little blessing. Any memory that makes me smile. Then I think of another, and then I can drop in and meditate. Then I can settle and reconnect with myself.

Another practice I love is pulling Angel cards. My favorite right now is The Angel Guide Oracle by Kyle Gray. LOVE, love him! I pull cards for my client; I love them! I pulled cards before writing this essay, and while shuffling, four cards jumped right out of the deck. I call those my jumpers. Compassion. Cut the Cords. Take Charge and Action. Joy and Contentment. Whaaaaat! So good and spot on.

 

I felt them as a beautiful invitation to practice compassion for myself, release some of the old stories I've been carrying, release the old, nasty words from certain loved ones that haunt me, take responsibility for the choices I can make today, and remember that joy is part of the process. Not something waiting for me at the finish line. Something I can experience right now. And that was exactly what I needed.

What If We Loved Ourselves Before We Changed?

With Thanksgiving approaching, I've been thinking about how complicated family gatherings can be, especially for people who've experienced a DNA discovery. Maybe you're meeting biological relatives for the first time. Maybe you're sitting at a table with people who know something about your discovery but refuse to talk about it. Or you're missing someone who isn't there. You could be navigating relationships that feel different now. Or maybe you're simply worried about how people will see you: your weight, your age, your appearance, your relationship status, your career, your choices.

And I want to ask you something. What if you didn't have to prove anything? What if you could walk into that room exactly as you are? Not apologizing for your body and not explaining why you haven't lost the weight or why you gained it. Not trying to convince anyone that you're successful enough, attractive enough, accomplished enough, or worthy enough. What if you could show up? As you.

Because here's what I keep reminding myself as I prepare to meet my brother. He isn't meeting a number on a scale. He's meeting me. He's meeting a woman who has lived a whole life. A woman who has loved deeply, lost people she adored, made mistakes, learned lessons, helped others, and worked hard to become more fully herself. He's meeting someone who has a lot of stories to tell. Who laughs loudly, dances with the blinds closed, and is currently listening to Earth, Wind & Fire's "September." A person who is still learning.

Even though I help others through their hard days, I'm still growing too and still becoming. And that's who I want him to meet. Not some imaginary future version of me. Me as I am: goofy, tender, sweet, some say funny, a great guide, a writer, just me today.

I'm Working on Me

I want to be clear about something. Loving myself exactly as I am doesn't mean I'm giving up on improving my health. I want to FEEL good, always. I want to sleep well every night and wake up happy. I'm more committed to my happiness and well-being than I've been in years.

I put myself on a Mediterranean veggie-eating plan that feels good for me right now. I'm paying attention to how different foods affect me. I'm working with people who can help me understand my health more deeply. All coaches need coaches. I feel like we all need support and a team, and I am so grateful for the team I have. I get as much out of my group as the people in it. (If you have a coach that says they have it all figured out, run, lol. No, really.)

I'm sleeping better. I'm feeling better. And I'm making changes slowly, with the intention of creating something I can sustain. I still have a long way to go, and I want to love my body through the process. I want to thank it for everything it does. I want to nourish it. Move it. Rest it. Laugh in it. Dance in it. And enjoy being alive in it, because this is the body I have today, and it deserves kindness today.

A Little Something from Momma Judy

If you're working on your weight, your health, your habits, your relationships, or anything else in your life right now, I want you to hear something. You are perfect exactly as you are. No need to put off fun and living until you reach your goal or fit into your favorite jeans.

We never arrive at that perfect moment when we have healed every wound. So please, go play right now. You are allowed to want change and love yourself at the same time. You are allowed to be proud of your progress and still have days when you struggle. You are allowed to laugh at yourself without making yourself the enemy. And you are allowed to be seen before you feel finished. Because, lovie, none of us finish. We're all becoming. And I think that's one of the most beautiful things about being alive.

Let's Check In

As we head into the holidays, I'd love to know how you're doing. When you notice you've gone a little unconscious, what helps you come back? Do you walk? Dance? Meditate? Call a friend? Spend time in nature? Tell me in the comments. I think we can learn so much from one another.

And if you're struggling with your weight or the way you see yourself, please remember this: your body is not an apology you owe the world. It's the home you've been living in. And you deserve to feel loved, welcomed, and celebrated in that home today.

So I'm going to keep nourishing myself. I'm going to keep making changes. I'm going to keep dancing. And I am going to keep fighting for my best health while I do it. When I meet my brother after Thanksgiving, I'm going to show up as the woman I am right now, with all my stories, all my laughter, all my love. And yes… all my bounce!

With so much love,
Judy 💜