Divorced From Myself, Part III

When I was young, I played with wild abandon. I hung upside down from monkey bars and did "no-handed backflips with a twist" off them. I climbed trees. I made "ramps" and tried to make the longest "skid marks" with my bike. I ran through the woods and jumped small gullies...

At school I was always either the team captain or one of the first kids picked for games. I was smart, adventuresome, happy and carefree.

And then it happened. In the fourth grade, all the girls decided it was no longer "cool" to play. They all stood around under the awnings in little circles. I have no idea what they talked about, because I never stood with them, but I know they carefully hid their Teen Magazines from the adults.

When it finally happened to me - the day I "became a woman" - I died. I remember it as the saddest day of my life. Gone was the carefree girl - strong and courageous - and in her place was now to grow a "woman."

Looking back, I see it all so clearly. That was the day I became divorced from my body - from my self. No longer did my body belong to me. Instead, it belong to the following.

1)Society at large.
2)Boys in general.
3)My "future husband" in particular.

How many hours and days and weeks past, while I lay on my bed, watching shadows move across my bedroom? I only lived in my mind. My body had no meaning to me anymore. And it was there, on my bed, that I discovered another reason to live. Not for society. Not for boys. Not for some "future husband", but for God and his purposes - to live in his service. To that I gave myself...and have given myself.

Several months ago, at age 29, I sat on my couch, startled and somewhat dazed at this jarring realization - my body is my own.

I just sat there on the couch, saying it over and again, tasting the phrase in my mouth, "my body is my own", putting different emphasis on different words...stunning. It was like finding myself married to someone I had forgotten about.

Today as I run on a treadmill, watching CNN rehash the abuse of Iraqi POW's, I find my mind wandering. All of the years I ran and played sports, I never really felt my body. Occasionally, I would feel the pain of a cramp, but I remember no other pains. Today, I feel my feet as they hit the track. I feel my calves tightening up and the slight pain that it brings. As I move into the runner's form I thought I had long forgotten, I feel my arms pull myself forward. I feel the power in my quads...I am overcome...and from deep within me, these words push past my lips, "I want my body back."

"I want my body back!"

Suddenly I realize what pro-choice women are talking about when they say, "it's my body." I used to think they were talking about the fetus, now I know that's not what they're saying. They're tired of their own bodies belonging to others - to be directed and controlled. They're tired of this consumer society consuming female bodies. I understand them, after all these years, I understand you, Nicole.

I'm taking my body back. It does not belong to anyone else. It is not for or to be consumed by anyone. And someday, if I am called upon to sacrifice, then I will lay it down, but in that moment, it will be a choice I make in love, not in apathy.

posted by Headless-in-GR @ 5/10/2004 02:18:00 PM