"Show me your friends, and I'll tell you who you are." - Kathleen's Story (Part 3)

Struggle #3 – Blemishes

My skin has many blemishes of all kinds. Some of them don’t bother me, like the handful of chicken pox scars left over from when I was little or the silvery stretch marks zigzag over my hips and the tops of my thighs—they used to bother me, back when they were angry red and people, upon seeing them, would ask if I’d been scratched, but they really don’t any more.

 My stretch marks stopped bothering me a long time ago.

But some of the blemishes do bother me. Like the cellulite on my thighs that’s been there as long as I can remember, or the acne that still constantly mars my skin at 25.

In my last post I discussed my struggles with my legs, but the one thing I didn’t mention is cellulite. To be honest, I think I’d still hate it if it were on any other part of my body—in fact, while I quite like my bum, I can guarantee that I hate the cellulite there—but the fact that it sits heavy on thighs that I already don’t love, well, that just makes me less inclined to ignore it. I hate the lumpy unevenness of it, the way it puckers and dimples my skin. Most of the time I find it easy enough to ignore, but I know I sometimes make concessions to it, avoiding certain cuts of shorts, or the one pole in class that I know is lit at an angle that highlights every lump and bump.

I’m uncomfortable with the visible unevenness of my thighs, even without the help of really unflattering light.

The worst part about cellulite is not really what it looks like at all, though. It’s the fact that it feels like it brands me somehow. I know that neither fitness nor youth are guarantees against cellulite, but it is hard not to feel that its residence on my thighs brands me as being out of shape and as not having the body expected of a twenty-something: that it somehow marks my body as being less perfect than it is meant to be given my age.

Acne, on the other hand—which shows up on my face, but is worst on my chest, shoulders, and back—makes me feel like a teenager. It feels like something I am meant to have outgrown by now, and I dislike that in many ways it marks the state of my life on my skin. In particular, it is obvious from the state of my skin when I am going through a period of stress or unhappiness.

I know lots of people would hardly consider this acne at all, but I’m incredibly self-conscious about it!

Inevitably, the more red welts that appear, the more stressed I become and the less self-confident I feel, to the point where, on occasion, I've avoided wearing the outfits that usually make me feel the best because I know I’m not going to feel as good as I’d like to in them. I try not to let my occasional discomfort over any part of my body—be it my belly, my thighs, or my acne—keep me from doing or wearing the things I want, and while I certainly don’t always succeed, I like to think I’m making progress and letting these things hold me back less than they once did.

Success #3 – Friends

Did you know that obesity is considered to be “socially contagious”? This is because we typically adopt the habits—good and bad—of those around us, so whether your friends love eating fast food or whether they’re gym rats (or both), you’re likely to pick up at least some of their habits.

For me this has certainly been true. I’m not saying to ditch the friend with the love of fries (I am that friend) if you’re trying to lose weight, but for me, at least, having a group of people who have habits I admire, who can do the things I want to learn to do, or who share my love of something has been huge. Those are the people who encourage me constantly, who help me push myself, and who inspire me to try new things in all aspects of my life, and so those people have been indispensable in helping me to become comfortable and confident in myself.

I've been lucky enough to have multiple groups of amazing people who fill this role in my life, and I am especially lucky that those who I initially knew only at the gym have now become people I call friends. Now, I am constantly motivated to go to pole class, not only because I love it, but also because there is accountability, and, even more than that, because there is a social aspect that I miss when I am not there.

Chatting out after Saturday pole class—this happens almost every week, and I love it. (Pic credit: @Brassvixens Instagram!)

When I am in class, this group supports me, believes in me, helps me, and cheers me on when I accomplish something new—and still manages to make me feel good about myself when I am frustrated at not landing that new move. 

In addition to that, these are people who, simply by being their adventurous and fun-loving selves, have given me so many opportunities to do and try things that I might not have otherwise—from going to high tea to like joining an axe-throwing league and playing archery tag. Things like axe throwing and archery tag may or may not be things I ultimately excel at, but for someone who has always been fairly reserved and nervous about trying new things, it is a huge accomplishment to be trying at all.

Sadly I have thus far failed to get a picture with the lovely ladies who are in the league with me, so here’s an action shot instead!

So maybe obesity is contagious, but there are so many other things that are too, and I've found that surrounding myself with amazing people, well, it might not necessarily make me amazing by association, but it certainly helps.

No thigh gap? Some problems. - Part 2 of Kathleen's Self-Love Journey

Struggle #2 – Legs


My legs and I have always had a bit of a rocky relationship. I must have been in middle school, probably no older than 11 or 12, when I began actively hating them. I refused to wear shorts or skirts that hit higher than mid-calf, thinking my legs too chunky and unsightly to be acceptable. My mom told me my calves were shapely, but I just called them fat. It took me a number of years—and a few hot summers of suffering through overheating—before I gave in, eventually moving to knee-length styles, and eventually to shorts that hit mid-thigh. In university the skirts got shorter and tighter, but were worn only on nights out and accompanied by sky-high heels and a strong dose of discomfort.

Even now, I still don’t love my legs. I still think my calves are too chunky and my thighs too jiggly. I hate that I’m knock-kneed in an obvious way. I don’t care about thigh gaps one way or the other, but I hate how much my thighs chafe, and I still feel uncomfortable with the way they squish out when I sit while wearing shorts.

Thigh squish—ack! I can’t believe I’m willingly putting this picture online!

But worse than that, I still sometimes resent my legs. I don’t resent them for their stockiness, not directly anyway, but I do resent how inconvenient they can be. It’s difficult to find jeans—especially my favoured skinny jeans—that fit properly around my calves without constricting, and it’s nearly impossible to find boots that come even to mid-calf, and even then they usually need to have laces in order to fit. Not to mention the fact that my jeans are more likely to have to be replaced because the inner thigh has worn out than for any other reason.


But on the other hand, I like wearing shorts, and I love short, swishy summer dresses—I even wear them with flats without really thinking anything of it, even though I know they’re not as flattering. When I do find skinny jeans that fit, I wear them constantly, and often find myself looking in the mirror thinking my legs look good. And, as I’ve said before, I love what my legs let me do; I may not love the way my soft inner thigh smooshes out during certain pole moves, but if that’s the trade-off for having the grip to stick leg hangs, pikes, and Supermans, I guess I can live with that.

Thigh grip is necessary for the Superman. Plus, being able to do this makes me feel like a superhero!

All in all, though my legs are still a sticking point when it comes to loving every detail of myself, I don’t actually hate them the way I once did. I still cite my thighs as my least favourite body part, but I’m not sure it’s really true, and maybe it is, at the very least, time that I start giving my legs a little bit more credit.



Success # 2 – Goals and Motivation


I’ve never been very good at making goals. I like results and I like success, but actually setting long-term goals and taking specific steps to meet them—especially when results don't happen immediately—well, I don’t really excel at that. At least, not when getting to that end point is the only motivation. For me, figuring that out has made a world of difference, because making goals and failing to accomplish them kind of sucks, and it's certainly never made me feel good about myself.


If I look at myself back in high school, or even in university, my goal with working out was always just to lose weight. No matter how much I wanted to be skinny (note: being skinny, as such, is no longer a goal of mine—being happy and healthy in my body is!), I could never find the motivation to actually hit that goal because results wouldn't happen immediately, and so it would seem like I wasn't getting anywhere, and eventually I'd simply give up. And then, inevitably, I'd feel worse than before, hating myself and my body for the inability to follow through or to change.


These days, though vanity certainly plays a role, health is a bigger factor, and the reality is that other things have mostly taken over. As I mentioned in my last post, when I started pole dancing, the primary goal was to try something new and to get myself out of the house, since I’d begun to feel like my life was stagnating. When I took up pole again after moving to Toronto, the goal was largely the same: it was something I already knew that I liked, and it gave me a reason to wake up and to leave the apartment. Now, pole is a motivator all its own.

For a while I’d begun to plateau—I was unable to learn new moves without gaining strength—and so when there was an opportunity to start hitting GoodLife with coworkers over lunch, it was easy to say yes, knowing that it would help me gain the necessary strength to improve. Don't get me wrong, it hasn't magically made me keen to spend an hour lifting weights; I still struggle to motivate myself some days (or weeks, or months), but when the goal is to improve my ability to do something that I love, it's a lot easier to give up that hour of reading BuzzFeed in favour of spending time at the gym.
So, sure, weight loss is still a motivating factor, but it’s secondary to a lot of things that are more fun and that are, quite honestly, better for my mental health and sense of self.

Part of my fitness goals list—in no particular order.

If you look at my list of goals, it’s largely pole moves. Some are far off goals, ones I may be working towards for years to come, and some are ones that I could get next week or next month if I just keep working at them. Every time I accomplish one of those moves—or even feel myself get that next step closer—I feel successful and I feel strong, and that's what keeps me moving forward. And really, that is what reminds me of how amazing my body is and of what it can do, and, much more than losing weight, that's what makes me feel confident in my own body.

The Jade Split is still on my goal list, because my version is far from perfect—but it still feels pretty amazing!

"Worry about loving yourself instead of loving the idea of other people loving you." - Kathleen's Story Part 1

I met Kathleen last year during one of my first pole transitions classes. I kinda sucked, she definitely didn't. I admired her fearlessness and confidence on the pole, and I looked forward to the day that I could exude the same. I asked for volunteers for a body positive charity project I am currently putting together and Kathleen eagerly stepped up. I was thrilled to have her and even more excited when she agreed to do a series of blog posts about her self-love journey. I relate to her first post and I hope some of you will too. Many thanks to Kathleen for sharing this side of herself with us.

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"Worry about loving yourself instead of loving the idea of other people loving you." - Kathleen's Story Part 1

Body image and self-esteem are funny things. It’s odd that it’s possible to love the big picture—to love yourself—but to still have parts of yourself that you’re uncomfortable with, or in some case even things that you hate. For me, it’s been a long process even to get to the point of loving myself in a broader sense.  I’ve always been seen as a little odd.  I’ve struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember, and whether I like it or not, my sense of self has been strongly impacted by these things. In school, I was made fun of for my weight. In middle and high school, I often was the biggest girl in my group of friends, relegated to shopping at stores targeted at grown women rather than teenage girls. I was demoralized by my lack of athleticism and inability to keep up with friends, classmates, and the expectations of gym class. For a long time, these things resulted in an intensely negative body image.

Me in high school (after my senior prom—hence the fancy hair and necklace with sweats!)

Things have changed a lot since then, and though I’ve learned to love myself fiercely—to own my oddness, and to appreciate my body for what it does for me and what it allows me to do—like most people, I still have a laundry list of things that I’m self-conscious about. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be writing a series of posts, each looking at one thing about my body that I still struggle to love and one thing that has contributed to my positive self-image—whether it’s a part of my body I’m particularly proud of or an activity that has helped me learn to love myself. I hope that by sharing some part of this constant journey, reconciling these disparate halves will become just a little bit easier. 

Struggle #1 – The Paunch

I’m going to start with one of the areas that most commonly causes insecurity: the belly. For me, it’s the lower tummy paunch in particular that I am self-conscious of, and that I do my best to keep contained under jeans (no super low rise here!) and spandex-laden workout clothes.

The dreaded paunch is visible from all angles

Even in pole class, where I’m generally comfortable in the booty shorts and sports bras that are standard fare, I often find myself looking in the mirror and tugging at the waistband of my shorts, trying to position it just so in order to flatten out and hide as much evidence of the paunch as possible, even though much of the rest of my body is on display.

I’ve done sit-ups and crunches of all sorts, and have made my abs sore more times than I can count in an effort to flatten my stomach (and yes, I know you can’t target fat loss that way, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t tried­) and obviously it has never succeeded the way I’d wanted it to. Though I have lost some of the belly I once had, I still dream of having that perfectly flat stomach that has been idealized in movies and magazines. I still stare in the mirror, sucking in my stomach and poking at pudge that I find there, uncomfortable with the idea of what other people think of my stomach, even though I now realize that most people probably do not notice or care.

Even then, I find my stomach hard to come to terms with. It’s easier to find benefits for the size of other parts of my body: my sizeable butt looks fantastic in jeans, and the extra weight on my thighs helps with the grip necessary to land many pole moves. But my stomach still mostly feels like unnecessary weight, just hanging out there and disrupting the line of my shirt or spilling over the waistband of my pants, and I haven’t quite figured out how to love it yet, though I hold out hope that one day I will.

Success #1 – Exercise

I know, I know, exercise is an obvious choice, but it has made a huge difference in my life and in how I look at myself. Exercise has not come easily to me. In high school, I hated gym class, and I’ve always struggled to find physical activities that I enjoy, though I’ve tried everything from yoga to softball, and martial arts to dance. In part, my lack of engagement has always been fear of judgement or failure, but it was also a matter of finding what inspires me. In my case, that’s pole dancing.

I feel most at home in my body when upside down.

I first tried pole on a whim—I’d moved home again after university and was unemployed and bored, looking for something new to try. I signed up for a 6 week session of beginner pole dancing, and even though I struggled with many of the moves even in those basic classes, I fell in love with it almost instantly.

These days I pole dance about three days a week, and on days when I don’t go to pole, I often do yoga with my roommate or go to GoodLife with coworkers. For someone who so long struggled to find the motivation to work out at all, it is a strange twist that somewhere along the way, going to the gym has become a routine and a refuge in many ways. I become restless when I go too many days without working out, I find that dancing it out in pole class or working up a sweat on an elliptical helps burn off frustration, and after working out I feel stronger and more in tune with my body.

I once thought that losing weight would be what made me love my body, and I’m not going to lie and say that the weight loss and overall toning that has happened as a result of exercise hasn’t helped my body image, because it undoubtedly has. It has helped me feel more comfortable in my body, and allowed me to feel less like I stand out only due to my size, which I often felt in high school. But the reality is that it is the other effects of exercise that I have found to make the most difference in my body image: exercise has helped me to realize my strengths—quite literally—and given me opportunities to work on my weaknesses and to overcome long-held fears about failure and not being able to keep up. It is these things, much more than weight loss, that have helped me to appreciate what my body can do and to keep pushing myself to improve.