At long last, 2020 is behind us. For large part of the year, doubling, tripling and quadrupling as house help, cook, full-time mother / spouse, while desperately trying to hold on to a day job AND sanity (last one was tricky) – one faced severe shortage of time. Days felt shorter, yet the year felt like a whole decade.
In this stressful period, in my overworked state with constant fear of the pandemic, I realized how much I take my body for granted. In a profound moment, I even compared myself to the evil step-mother of Cinderella; Cinderella here being, my hardworking body. At the end of most (gruelling) days, I would look at the person in the mirror critically and say, you are becoming rounder and rounder. Yeah, I have always thought I was too sexy for my body. In my head, I am my own Halle Barry, but what I saw on the mirror told another story; never mind you!
How badly I treat my body!? I feed all kinds of crap in the name of stress (eating); loving it too little, expecting too much and almost always criticising and shaming, forever wishing it / I were 5 kilos lighter and / or 5 centimetres taller. My hair's too frizzy, nails' too brittle, smile too gummy and eyes super crinkly – finding faults and only faults.
Yet, in this most difficult year, as in all the years preceding that, my body has been utmost forgiving. It took on more work than it has ever been used to, never demanding a pay hike. It never whined for nice clothes or fancy shoes. It didn’t crash or collapse or drop dead. Even though, I almost always attend zoom meetings with my video off because my face looks too tired, I never bother to cajole my body and give it the extra rest it so desperately needs.
Whatever I put it through, my body ploughs on. And here I thought, I was too sexy and my body had a lot of catching up to do. Ironical much!?
With all my love and gratitude to my one true love aka hot bod...
p.s: all you boys and girls, go rock your body!
