The Scars of Victory

After my previous relationship I had a lot of body issues. My significant other was always harsh on my body and when he left, I got serious about fitness. It was partly for me and probably in part to prove that he should have stayed. Either way, I got in shape. 

When I moved to Dallas a year ago I was therefore in the best shape of my life, something that probably saved my life in multiple ways as I entered cancer treatment. I was thin, I was strong, I was toned. I was finally happy with my body. 

And then I had chemo. 

And I gained 20 pounds. 

People said once I was no longer on steroids it would just fall off. 

It hasn't. 

Granted, with my work schedule, surgeries, and recovery I haven't been able to go to the gym every day, but I have been eating healthy and being mindful of movement. Still, I seem to be stuck with these new curves. 

I take pictures and my face does not look like my own.
I see more signs of wear and tear.
I see more exhaustion and less eyelashes. 
I feel sad. 

I would be lying if I said I have embraced this body. It would be more honest to say that it plagues me. I am constantly concerned that my pants don't fit, that my favorite dress is too tight, that my face looks chubby. I long for my pre-cancer body. I long for the old me. 

________________________________________________________

I am currently dating a man who is lovely. 

He tells me that he cannot imagine me being any more beautiful than I am now. He tells me to eat good food and treat myself because even if I gained more pounds he would think I am the best looking woman he has ever seen. He says he will support my fitness goals if that is what I feel I need to do, but he puts no pressure on me to change my body. When I say "I just have to get used to being chubby," he tells me I am missing the point and he cannot fathom how I do not see my own perfection. 

He says he will keep telling me I am beautiful until I believe it. 

He is wonderful, isn't he? 

________________________________________________________

When it comes to this body I have to reconcile two sides of the same coin. I see what was taken from me with cancer, Jeff sees what was granted to me. This same body that in some ways failed me, in other ways saved me. It fought off disease. It stayed strong despite being poisoned, it came back to life after treatment. This body, with its scars and curves, allows me to hike eight miles through steep vineyards, to breathe deeply, to laugh, to travel. It has been through so much and it has been victorious. 

Do I look like I want to look? No. 

But am I starting to believe that there is beauty in the changes? 

Perhaps. 

Perhaps my body is not a disappointment.

Perhaps it is simply covered with the scars of victory.  

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