Body Image Evolves

Have you ever noticed that we have images or concepts for our bodies, and they change over time?

One day when I was my twenties, I noticed that I saw my body as basically a pedestal for my head. “Paula” - me - was located in my head, and my body was merely a pedestal for the head, with wheels to move the head from place to place and hands like little paddles to shovel food into the head.

Me in my 20s

In my 30s, I got into step aerobics and British folk dance, and my body image evolved into a vaguely pleasant human-shaped mass with arms, legs, joints and weight. I had a good sense of rhythm and loved making my weight come down and spring up at just the right moments. My body’s ability to express rhythm became very important to me. I also took up jogging, which though not expressive like dance, is nonetheless very rhythmic, confirming my new image of my body as basically a rhythm instrument.

But “Paula” - me - was still located in my head.

Me in my 30s

It wasn’t until my mid-40s when I discovered that my body might be part of “me.” At that time, I got plantar fasciitis from all that stepping, folk dancing and jogging. I was in pain every day, and my lifestyle had to change immediately. I had to quit all of my beloved high-impact activities. Only swimming remained. I was bereft. What would I DO?

I turned to physical therapy and Pilates - and discovered the world of mind-body movement.

My PT and Pilates teachers educated me about the muscles that needed to be stretched (namely, my soleus and gastrocnemius) and coached me to adjust my attitude toward my body to help my rehab go faster. I learned that the body needs to be treated with love and respect. I learned to make stretching a priority every day, which I’d never done before. I learned to breathe “into” the stretching muscle and visualize it getting longer. I learned to speak out loud to my muscles, encouraging them, praising them when they loosened, thanking them for their hard work.

My soleus and gastrocnemius did get longer, and I did get relief. I was also deeply affected by how amazing it felt to know the names, locations and functions of my muscles. Previously, my calves had been just…my calves. They looked appropriately calf-like, but the inside was vague, undifferentiated meat. Focusing daily attention on my soleus and gastrocnemius enabled me to sense them, all the time, even when I wasn’t stretching.

And it kept happening: whenever I learned a new muscle, I could sense it for the first time. It was like making a new friend. Muscles became like little people to me. They are kind of like people, if you think about it. They have names, homes, jobs, feelings, desires, even memories. They respond to praise, and to criticism. Very much like sentient beings.

So my body image evolved again. Now my body was a walking collection of muscle-friends. An anatomy chart come to life.

But still not “me.” Yet.

Then in 2010, at 48, I discovered NIA. My Pilates teacher at the time, Nikki Alstedter, was also the NIA teacher at the studio. With her encouragement, I tried her NIA class, and loved it. Focusing on what the movements felt like, rather than how they looked, was a revelation.

With continued practice of NIA, my body finally became part of “me” sometime in my early 50s. I was a whirl of humanity, and my body was a definitely part of it.

Me in my 50s, in NIA class

Today at 60, I am a 2nd Degree Black Belt with over 1,000 hours of NIA teaching experience and multiple other body-mind trainings - and my body image has evolved still further. I now feel that “Paula” is distributed throughout my body, on a cellular level. Each cell is like a tiny micro mini-me. “Paula” lives in and radiates from every cell. My pinky toe is as much “me” as my brain. My body’s voice is my voice.

We have a word for this in movement culture. I am now “embodied.”

Me at 60 - awake, alive, embodied

Being embodied is delightful. I enjoy sensing my body throughout the day as I do laundry, prepare food, talk on the phone, teach class. My body speaks; I listen. When speaking, especially when presenting, I speak from my body. The words emerge almost literally from my bone marrow. When I dance, my body writes somatic poetry that is just for me. I listen to the poetry as I move, enchanted and elevated.

This is why I often screen-share anatomical images at the start of my online NIA classes. Seeing what you’ve got helps you sense it - which builds mindfulness, yes, but it also invites your body image to incrementally evolve.

Being embodied has also done wonders for my self esteem. The more I sense, the more I appreciate. That’s where we are going in Quarter 2 of 2023 when our quarterly focus will be Self Love.

What is your body image today? Can you remember a time when you had a different body image? What experiences made your body image evolve from that to this?