Love the Body You Loathe
The Counterintuitive Truth
I’ve always been fascinated by paradoxes—those sneaky little truths that defy logic. Like how eating less fat doesn’t always make you less fat, or how life seems to get easier the moment you stop trying so hard. But the biggest paradox I’ve ever encountered is this: The only way I finally got the body I wanted was by learning to love the one I hated.
The War on My Body
Growing up, I had a front-row seat to my mother’s lifelong battle with her weight. She tried it all—low-carb, low-fat, low-will-to-live. Each diet began with hope and ended with her yo-yoing back to the same weight, or worse. Watching her struggle, I swore I’d never go down that path.
Instead, I chose war.
By the time I was a teenager, I was weight training before I could drive and had a gym membership before I had a car. I kept an iron grip on my body for decades. And, on the surface, it worked. I looked good—at least, that’s what people told me.
But I never felt good.
There was always guilt if I skipped a workout, shame if I indulged in too many brownies, and outright loathing if I dared to look “mushy” in a bathing suit. (Spoiler alert: I didn’t. My self-loathing just drowned out any logic.)
Rock Bottom
Fast forward to my 30s. After six kids and a seventh pregnancy as a surrogate, my body and I hit rock bottom. Tipping the scales at over 170 pounds, I felt like Jabba the Hutt. Mirrors were my enemy, photos were forbidden, and every reflection filled me with disgust.
That’s when a business trip brought me to New Orleans and, unexpectedly, to a cruise that would change my life.
This wasn’t your typical suburban, Stepford cruise. It was filled with people of color who radiated confidence and unapologetic love for their bodies. Curves were celebrated, not scorned. And I? I couldn’t walk anywhere without getting noticed.
Not the polite, “Oh, good for her” glances I was used to in Utah. No, these were whistles, stares, and bold comments that would make HR departments everywhere hyperventilate.
At first, I was suspicious. Was this some kind of joke?
But it wasn’t.
These people genuinely appreciated my fertility-goddess physique. For the first time, I saw my body through someone else’s eyes—not as a problem to fix, but as something worthy of admiration.
The Shift
That’s when it hit me: My body wasn’t disgusting. I was disgusting to my body.
For decades, I had assaulted it with judgment and criticism, refusing to see everything it had done for me—like, you know, create and sustain seven humans.
So I made a decision. I was going to love my body exactly as it was.
No more shame. No more disgust. Just admiration, gratitude, and love.
And the craziest thing happened: My body started to change.
The Transformation
Not overnight. And not in a “manifest six-pack abs through positive affirmations” kind of way. But once I released the floodgates of self-loathing, everything else started to flow.
I realized my body hated the beatings at CrossFit, so I swapped it for yoga. I stopped counting every calorie and started listening to my body’s cues. I replaced punishment with play, control with curiosity, and force with flow.
The result? My body transformed into one I never even dreamed of in my teens or 20s.
The Science of Self-Love
Science backs this up. Chronic stress, including self-criticism, increases cortisol levels, which can lead to weight gain and make fat loss harder. Meanwhile, practices like mindfulness, self-compassion, and intuitive eating lower stress hormones, regulate appetite, and improve overall health.
Loving your body isn’t just feel-good fluff—it’s biologically transformative.
The Counterintuitive Truth
Most of us try to hate our bodies into submission. We think self-loathing will motivate change, but it doesn’t. It keeps us stuck in shame and frustration.
The truth is counterintuitive: You can’t shame your way to a body you love. You have to love your way there.
This isn’t just about weight or looks. It’s about approaching your body with kindness and curiosity instead of criticism and control. It’s about treating yourself like someone you care about.
And when you do, your body will respond—not because you forced it to, but because you finally gave it permission to thrive.
Coming Home
If you’re tired of the fight, consider waving the white flag. Start by appreciating the body you have right now, exactly as it is.
Who knows? You might just find that the thing you’ve been chasing all along was waiting for you to stop running and finally come home to yourself.