It was innocent enough. I was in the grocerey store shopping for–what else? groceries– when I looked up and saw this guy browsing through the bananas. He was carrying a few other items, some carrots, lettuce, grapes, in his arms. His arms, which were huge. Really huge, but not too huge. They were the right kind of huge, the kind that made me temporarily stop in my tracks and get lost in the beginnings of a daydream. My own arm was frozen in mid-air, outstretched with my hand inches from the tomatoes I was about to reach for, and I felt my eyes drift to the right ever so slightly, the way they tend to do whenever my imagination shifts into gear.
I noticed the baseball hat, casually turned backwards over sandy brown hair the sideburns that pointed toward a sturdy jaw line. The cotton T-shirt that hung close, but loosely, around his torso, which tapered inward as it narrowed down to his waist. His legs were proportional to the rest of his figure, and his calf muscles were visible, more pronounced than those of an average person.
Not the overly manufactured body of a gym rat who lives for his next set of bench presses.
No. More of a natural shape, the obvious product of regular physical activity. That’s when it hit me.
Obvious. OBVIOUS.
Our bodies are a very obvious indicator of who we are, what we enjoy, what we think of ourselves. I looked down at my own body, the lumpy belly and fleshy arms. My reflection in the mirrored glass behind the vegetables showed a girl with slightly puffy cheeks and a subtle double chin. At that precise time, the produce sprinkler system sputtered to life and the image was smeared behind a mist of water droplets.
My body isn’t saying what I want it to say about me right now.
As easily as I discerned a few key facts about the man picking out bananas (that he was physically active, that he ate healthy food, that he enjoyed spending time outdoors, that he was athletic), I became aware of some of the key facts other people could/would deduce about me based on my body. It wasn’t a good moment. Not disimilar to when you realize that you’ve been walking around with spinach in your teeth or toilet paper stuck to your shoe. Frustrating, but not fatal. An unpleasant collison with the truth.
I looked down at my cart. A colorful array of fresh fruits and vegetables was sitting there, reminding me I’m heading in the right direction. Reminding me my body won’t always be a banner that reads “loves TV, food, sitting on the sofa, and generally spending time indoors,” in neon flashing lights.
One day, hopefully before the end of this year, the obvious message my body sends to the world will be something along the lines of “enjoys outdoor activity, exercises regularly, eats plenty of leafy greens, has overcome obesity.”
What does your body obviously say about you?
Elle
Original article: Body Says Whaaaaat?
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