By Taylor Bowman, guest contributor
I’m a mover. For as long as I can remember, moving my body through space has always been a part of my life. My mom would always tell me that when she was pregnant, she would worry that I didn’t move around a lot sometimes. Doctors would tell her I was just hanging out and getting comfy. Once I was out in the world, nothing could stop me from bopping my head or tapping my toe or shaking my hips. Fast forward through early years, adolescence, and college and I found my mind to be so disconnected from my body that I barely knew how to move in space without the fear that someone would judge me or that I would judge myself.
When I was growing up, going to dance class was my favorite part of the week. I did every style from jazz to ballet. I never thought much about how my body differed from my friends in dance class until I had a major growth spurt starting around age five. My belly was bigger than everyone else’s. My hips and chest began to grow before everyone else’s. I had to figure out how to dance while on my period before everyone else. All of that would’ve been fine if I didn’t also have teachers and people who weren’t my friends telling me I was too fat or too tall to actually be a serious dancer one day.
Over time I began to analyze and critique my body just as much if not more than other people. Doctors would always want my mom to change my diet in order to alter my physical appearance just because of some insignificant curve that I was on. This led to years of yo-yo dieting, self-hatred, and doing whatever means necessary to try and fit myself in to a box that doctors, and society deemed acceptable. When I got to college and was faced with a therapist telling me I had a severe eating disorder that was taking over my life, I still felt like my body didn’t fit the mold of an eating disorder and I didn’t deserve to get treatment or even say I was struggling.
I went to partial treatment for my eating disorder for about two and a half months. I may have left there with tools and skills to support me by nourishing my body in a healthful way, but I didn’t connect with my body like I used to. It didn’t help that as soon as I arrived, I had a psychiatrist telling me I couldn’t have a certain eating disorder like my therapist diagnosed because I wasn’t the right number on the scale. It felt like he said, “yes you’re struggling but it can only be in this way because you aren’t thin enough.” I didn’t want to take dance classes anymore or get involved in too many movement practices because I still felt undeserving. It wasn’t until I moved to California with my backpack and my suitcase to start school to become a therapist that the light began to flicker back on.
One of the hardest parts of going to school to become a therapist is the level of self-reflection it requires. I had to create a personal narrative about who I was and what experiences in life brought me to this point. Something inside told me to choose movement as my method of telling my story and it was one of the most healing experiences I’ve ever had. It made me look deep inside myself and remember that little girl who had to move her body no matter what. I had pushed that side of myself down so far and all because the world around me said I was not deserving of existing happily in the body that I was given because it’s a fat body.
I’ve never cried so much as when I was putting my personal narrative together, but I will always be grateful for that experience because it brought me back to my body. My mind and my body were friends again. The music poured over me and movement was no longer something I had to shy away from. I began taking yoga classes, dance classes, movement workshops, and anything I could find to fill my renewed need to move my body.
I know that I am not the only fat, black, female identifying person who feels that their very existence on this earth is a burden. I am also still very much on a healing journey with my eating disorder and acceptance of who I am in all phases of my life. I do know that if I hadn’t found the mind and body connection again, it would be a lot harder to continue my self-acceptance journey. The body holds all of our experiences, traumas, and ability to connect. If your mind and your body feel distant from each other, maybe you need to take that scary leap within and remember a time when nothing could stop you from embracing your body in space no matter what. I may have days when the disconnect comes creeping back, but I know that little Taylor, who had to move her body no matter what is always cheering me on and reaching her hand out to bring me back to the joy of mind/body connection.
