Virus: The Story of a Young Girl and Her Body

This article is actually the result of a speech I delivered in Toastmasters last year. It's one that I wish I had on film because of two things:

The first reason is because it was the second prepared talk I'd ever given within the organization and I was scared shitless. Mind you, there were maybe only a dozen people present. If you know my story then you'll remember that confident self-expression in group dynamics is an area I'm consistently working to improve.

And the second is because after only a minute of speaking, I could tell I had the audience hooked. And there's nothing more satisfying than feeling the dense captivation of a room of people due to your connection to something meaningful to you. I knew I had already grown leaps and bounds when after my talk, I was actually WISHING that there had been more people present to hear it.

For flow purposes (and to satisfy my inner author) I've made a few tweaks to the original that in no way alter the heart of what was delivered.

Here is yet another offering to our collective at this time. May all who have taken on the battle of body dysmorphia and eating disorders rediscover in this lifetime, the beauty that far exceeds their physicality.

Virus: The Story of a Young Girl and Her Body

I was in fifth grade.

I recently made a transition from Alaska where the majority of my family lived, to Washington, to live with my mom who had abandoned our family. I had made a few friends in Washington. I dearly missed the close and nourishing friendships I had home in Anchorage but Everett was where I had to be if I wanted to be close to my mom. And how I yearned to be close to her. These new friends will make due.

Her name was Kacera. She was my best friend and she was beautiful.

She was long and slender. She had blond, bouncy curls that fell just past her shoulders.

I remember being curious of her body -- she was so close to my age, we were young girls, yet she had the physique of a woman. She was developed in areas my body was not.

Kacera spoke what was on her mind. I was enthralled by her awareness and leverage of her sexuality at such an age. What I remember the most about Kacera was that she had the attention of the boy who had both of our attention, Joe.

Joe had a job and was not in school. I remember how he made me feel as a young developing girl, although this infatuation was never reciprocated.

One day we were on the playground at the apartment complex I lived at the time. It was just another day. I was bashful yet excited that Joe, both mine and Kacera’s crush, was hanging out with us. At least five years my age, he was a man in my young naive eyes.

I was wearing my favorite shirt that day. It was a short-sleeved, brown shirt that tied in the front right beneath my bosom. It fit my body the way I’d seen Kacera's clothes fit hers. It accentuated what little developed parts I had, but I felt good. I felt absolutely lovely. Kacera, as always, looked beautiful.

I was a cute kind of awkward; glasses, braces, and all. I was soft spoken and timid about using my voice especially around those I had feelings for. The three of us were on the monkey bars, making casual conversation. I remember being enchanted by Kacera's ability to carry the conversation, to have this young man completely enamored by her presence. I don’t remember much of what I spoke that day. But the conversation that Kacera and Joe had in front of me remains a faint mark in the heart of the woman that now sits here, typing these words.

Kacera was complaining about the way she looked. I intuitively felt that she didn't believe her own story to be true but was searching for positive reinforcement and attention from Joe.

Paraphrasing, Kacera said to Joe,

“I just feel like I’m fat and I don't like the way my body looks.”

Joe wasted no time in trying to comfort my cunning friend.

“Fat? You’re far from fat. If you want to see what 'fat' looks like just take a look at...”

I noticed a pause in their conversation. Not thinking much about it I looked up, curious how he'd finish his sentence, only to see them both staring at me. 

I was shattered.

***

Joe's words mark the first time I can remember being ashamed of my own body. Let me be clear that I was by no means overweight as a young girl. I was extremely active with a healthy apatite. But that didn’t matter. The guy I swooned over thought I was fat. And what I had been taught so far by my culture is that fat people are ugly and ugly people are unlovable.

This day stands out to me as a glaringly obvious moment when I willingly ingested the poison. My relationship to my body has never again been an innocent one. This is not to say I wouldn't have eventually found myself agreeing to these systems of belief that are so ingeniously planted in our society. It's safe to say if you've spent any amount of time immersed in this culture, you've also -willingly or not- agreed to some of these ideas.

I've battled over a decade of malicious thoughts towards my body. My relationship to the fluctuations as a mother, a woman, a highly sensitive empath, and the inevitable stressors caused by modern day life continues to be an area for me to find self-compassion.

The longer I walk my path, the more I have come to realize that this is not just about me. This battle in not just my own. This battle is not small.

This is a war.

The Virus is being injected into the minds of our sons and daughters, the hearts of our youth, that consistently reinforce how they are not good enough and never will be. We are fed false premises that reestablish patterns of self-denial and loathing that ultimately distract us from wielding the power that is our absolute birthright.

We know their systems are working because young girls like Kacera everywhere accept fleeting validation or rejection based on these ever changing superficialities.

Boys like Joe encourage it. And behind closed doors they are fighting a similar battle that will only eventually gain as much attention as it has for women.

Our duty as workers of Light when we've taken on something heavy in this lifetime -addiction, illness, loss of loved ones, cycles of abuse, etc.- is to understand the malware. The only way to fully reprogram a system is by understanding how it functions. That means you get a front row seat to what are the major afflictions of the collective, whether that include all of humanity or just a portion of it.

Once a virus has infiltrated a system it can appear on the outside that the organism is functioning just fine. But the systems of operation are dysfunctional. It becomes faulty and unstable. And even if a virus exists to a small, seemingly insignificant degree it's only a matter of time before it spreads. Relentless in its feeding frenzy, the parasite grows in strength while the host quickly withers.

Believe me when I say, some days those tempting thoughts get the best of me. They whisper my imperfections. They sing a song whose tune I know too well; one of torment and pain. Rejection and denial. One that attempts to pull a curtain over greatness through petty comparisons and idealism. Some days, it sucks me dry. In those moments, my awareness becomes fully tuned into being as receptive as I can to Darkness.

I surrender to her counterpart, Shadow, as she begs to simply be acknowledged. She asks to be seen and heard, for her story is just as important as that of Light. To be reminded that she is not forgotten and she is not a burden is sometimes all that's required for her to loosen her grip and reintegrate into Love.

You know you're surrounded by flowers when it's understood that the blooming of another only adds to the overall beauty of the garden.

The more you feel right in yourself the more you are able to extend your heart to this world that deeply needs it. It's no accident I find myself working within an organization whose mission revolves around creating a new narrative for how we relate to our bodies. It's a space where self-acceptance and empowerment are at the forefront of our mission. Every day I am a witness to women of every age, background, and size demanding the return of their sovereignty. We are creating a revolution where strength and beauty are measured by an inner state versus an outer shape.

Becoming the antivirus is about cleansing toxicity from our environments. Turning off harmful forms of media that invite the virus straight into our system. It's sending love to the woman who is in the midst of her battle and thinks she is alone. It's praying for the individual who has written over their energetic field, the signature of Death and Deceit. It's about holding our own inner child when we fall back into a cycle that has held us captive before. It's in remembering that we don't have to give power to the voice in our head if it's harmful. Strip it of any and all authority, especially when it gives life to The Nightmare. You are meant to Dream, darling.

***

To that perfectly plump young girl on the playground who so many years ago had her innocence broken; to all the little boys and girls -within and without- to whom these words represent, I declare boldly and unapologetically,

You are beautiful. You are enough.

xo,

Mar