Body First

“Sorry” I said as I muted myself and leaned out of the camera’s view during my virtual therapy session. A ferocious sneeze escaped and I blew my nose with the force that comes with being a week sick. I unmuted myself to re-join the session and my therapist looked at me and says “No need to apologize, Kati. Body first.” 

“Huh?” I replied, not entirely sure what she meant. She proceeded to explain that I have no need to apologize for my body simply being a body. “Sneezing, snot, using the bathroom…. These are merely bodily functions of all people with bodies and don’t require an apology” she explained.  I laughed and agreed that it was odd that I’d automatically apologize for blowing my nose… I was, after all, recovering from Covid and congestion was unavoidable. And yet my apology had slipped out faster than I could stop it. It had actually felt like I was being considerate to my therapist by automatically muting the sound and leaning away from the camera so she didn’t have to see the wad of tissues I had stuffed in my face. I was just being considerate… right? However her comment prompted me to wonder why had I automatically apologized and automatically moved so she couldn’t hear or see me blow my nose. 

Some time processing this brief interaction led to some insights over my unprompted apology and mild embarrassment. To an extent, I think I had just been considerate. Society taught that it’s polite to offer an “excuse me” following a burp, sneeze or bout of coughing. An apology can serve as an acknowledgement that body functions can be loud, smelly or disruptive. But a closer look revealed that my ‘consideration’ had masked an underlying sense of embarrassment and shame over my bodily function. Since I was a young girl, I observed women offer unnecessary apologies and concealing everything from graying hairs to cellulite to periods. I’ve observed women experience embarrassment over farts, burps or any other manner of bodily eruptions, and have felt that embarrassment myself. My reflection began to center not only on my apology, but what made it so automatic. It made me wonder if that brief feeling of embarrassment followed by an apology actually pointed towards something deeper. An unspoken yet general sense that in some ways my body is shameful.

“What does it actually mean to be body first?” I asked my therapist. 

She explained further. ‘Body first’ is a mantra. A permission, a radical invitation if you will. It’s a revolutionary declaration to refuse to see or engage my and other bodies as if they are anything less than good. Not a problem, a distraction, an interruption or something that holds us back. While it’s true in some ways that my body can interrupt or hold me back - for example, my need to get rest can interrupt my plans for productivity and my neuro-divergence can be a disruptive annoyance. However, this being true of how I experience my body is vastly different than relating to myself as if those interruptions and setbacks determine my dignity.

How often do I live subconsciously as if my body is an interruption, or embarrassing or shameful? To answer honestly, I think a lot.

For me this looks like overriding my body’s cues when I’m tired or hungry. Putting off scheduling doctor and dental checkups. It’s overeating or undereating. It’s treating my self-care routine like a checklist to rush through rather than an experience of kindness towards myself. Other times it’s ignoring feeling emotionally drained and unnecessarily prioritizing others' needs above my own. However, it most frequently occurs when I am feeling angry, sad, afraid or stressed and I choose to ignore the physical cues and override my emotions. My shoulders are tense, my stomach is in knots, my heart is racing… and rather than pause and breathe deeply and collect myself, I just ignore it. Does this sound familiar to you, reader?

I wonder how often my body gets neglected, hurt and dare I say, punished, by this dysfunctional relationship? 

Even as I write this, the word “punish” feels strong. Really, Kati? I question using that word but as I sit with it, I’m further persuaded it’s true. On one end of the spectrum, I know that some people punish themselves through active self harm like cutting, substance abuse, food binge or restriction… with the ultimate harm being suicide. If these seem like severe measures, it’s because they are. Yet I wonder if I’m not doing a less severe (and perhaps more common?) version of the same thing to myself. Like when I feel icky after I notice my weight changing and I’m tempted to push myself to run an extra mile or think twice about which foods I eat. Other times I’m avoiding that shame by attempting to hide my body. I wonder if ‘body first’ means having to come to grips with limitations - food allergies or visible and invisible disabilities. Limitations that may mean I can’t “do it all” or “be all” because I have needs and limits and I must prioritize my physical needs. It’s accepting that having needs and limitations is an integral part of my human experience and doesn’t need to be hidden or tinted with embarrassment or shame.

Body first.

How often do you and I, dear reader, engage in a relationship with ourselves that is less than kind, respectful and honoring?

This interaction with my therapist was a brief 1-2 minutes in an hour of therapy. It honestly had nothing to do with what I was working on that day in counseling. But it’s stuck with me ever since: body first. How might my relationship to myself change if I cared for my body with dignity, respect and honor and met her needs first? If I grew my compassion and understanding, might I become less judgmental of others bodies? Might I have increased patience, empathy and gentleness? 

For me, this has looked like noticing when I’m tired and choosing to rest instead of staying up late. It’s looked like taking medication and my supplements even when I become irritable that I need them. It’s eating when I’m hungry and using the restroom when I need it instead of ignoring or pushing past the cues. It’s abstaining from criticizing my flaws and simply accepting that they exist. It’s not apologizing or holding onto embarrassment for bodily functions. It’s taking a sick day (or 3) when necessary. These things may not seem like a lot, but they’re small steps towards honoring ‘body first’ and working with instead of against myself. I invite you to imagine with me a world in which our bodies were not commodities to be consumed, a shameful figure to be hidden or a thing to be mastered. But instead… a body worthy of love and deserving of honor.