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Amazon Queen

My various body issues are not something I discuss on here often. At this point in time, the trauma surrounding my body is probably the deepest and most complex trauma I have, so it’s a topic I tend to avoid generally, but especially publicly. That said, I am going to make a rare exception and touch on said issues today.

I am a large person. I don’t even mean I’m fat, though I have gained weight over the last few months, which certainly doesn’t help the dysmorphia, trauma, or ED. What I mean is that I’m a mesomorph. I naturally carry a lot of muscle on my body, I’m quite broad, and I’m dense. I have a love-hate relationship with this aspect of my body. On one hand, I love being strong. Nothing makes me happier than seeing muscle growth in the mirror, or experiencing the results of that growth, like successfully attempting a new pole trick. On the other hand, I often wish my frame was more petite, because, as any female-aligned person knows, we are taught from a very young age that smaller is “better.”

I want to start off by saying that these body issues are mine. They are no one’s responsibility to “fix” or “alleviate.” That journey to healing is all on me, even though I know it’s going to take a long-ass time and a lot of work because it’s so deeply rooted. It’s also not something I’m ready to work on just yet, and I accept that, too.

My boyfriend, “Thomas,” has been nothing but supportive regarding my body image issues. He has never been dismissive, nor made me feel silenced or guilty. He lets me say what I need to say, and then he sits down with me, looks me right in the eyes, and tells me how HE sees me. He says he’s sorry I see myself the way I do, and then he tells me that he hopes one day I see myself the way he does. Not only is that unbelievably sweet, but in my opinion it’s so much better than just telling me I’m wrong about the way I look. He takes care to validate my feelings while asserting that he disagrees, and then explaining why. He doesn’t rush through these interactions either. He takes his time, getting really detailed about what he loves about me and my body and making sure I’m hearing everything he wants me to hear. And I’m not talking about vague gross comments like “I like your butt” or whatever. I’m talking about details someone would have to take the time to notice. When Thomas comments on my body, he speaks in poetry. (Then again, Thomas usually speaks in poetry.) Having someone be so specific about WHY you’re beautiful is magical. It doesn’t “solve” the problem, because of course not, but it does temporarily uplift you, and bring you out of it. (At least, it does for me, I can’t speak for others.)

But wait, there’s more.

Not only does Thomas provide a safe, reassuring space for me to express my feelings about my body, but he makes comments that actively help fight against those feelings (which I’ll elaborate on momentarily). I have never ever been with anyone - scratch that - I have never even had anyone in my life be able to do that in any capacity. And to be clear, I didn’t ask him for for this or tell him to start making these kinds of comments, he just said and says these things of his own accord, which of course makes it even better, because it’s genuine.

It started several months ago, I don’t quite remember when, when I was ranting about my general size and Thomas said “I LOVE that you’re strong.” I don’t think a partner has ever said that to me before. He told me he loves my muscle definition and that I don’t need his help to carry things or lift things. He loves that my shoulder muscles are bigger than his (something I tease him about), and he loves that when we wrestle we’re actually pretty evenly matched. (Yes, we playfully tussle sometimes. We’re basically big children.) These statements have become pretty commonplace for him, whether I’m feeling dysmorphic or not. Sometimes he just says things like this, totally unprompted.

But my absolute favorite part came only recently. Thomas and I often use pet names for each other (we are that cringey couple, thanks for asking). These include your run of the mill pet names like “sweetheart,” “sweetie,” “babe,” “baby,” “hun,” “honey,” “boo,” “dear,” and even “darling.” But Thomas also calls me “gorgeous,” “beautiful,” “my queen,” and “my goddess,” just to name a few. (I KNOW!) Perhaps a month ago, totally out of the blue, Thomas added an adjective to one of those pet names I was not expecting. He said, “I love you my Amazon Queen.” My mouth literally dropped open and I had to process that for a minute. Because I…liked it? Normally, discussing my size or hearing comments about my size are incredibly triggering. But this time it wasn’t. Because I had never had somebody frame my size (no pun intended) in a way that was, not only positive, but extremely and overtly desirable. And it wasn’t in a gross way or a fetishizing way. It was so earnest, so matter-of-fact that it made me, dare I say it, like my body for a hot second? Which like, maybe a hot second doesn’t seem significant to some of you, but that is a huge step for me.

So I communicated all of this to Thomas and he beamed at me. He told me he was so happy that he could do that for me and that he would call me an Amazon Queen more often. Which, he does! Plus, he’s also added “Amazon Goddess” to the roster (*swoon*). They’ve become so casual, just some more pet names he calls me. I feel like that’s significant, too, because it’s a reminder that it’s not “special” or "noteworthy” that someone is celebrating my body, or that my body is worth celebrating period.

Again, it’s not Thomas’ responsibility to “fix” my body issues, and I’ve made that clear to him. No one can heal me except me. But I feel like this is such an important step. Of course, at the end of the day, the self-esteem I (should) have about my body needs to come from me, but everyone has to start somewhere right? Having someone talk to me about my body in this way has been life-changing. And if you understood how fucked up my relationship with my body is, you’d know that is not an exaggeration.

My journey is far from over (obviously), and I still have a lot of work to do, when I’m ready to do it. But for the time being, having a partner who not only appreciates the way my body is shaped, but, frankly, worships it, is more therapeutic than I could have ever imagined.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be sitting on my big-ass throne, which just so happens to fit me perfectly.

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A skillful display of an unusual instrument: The Theremin. An electronic musical instrument controlled without physical contact by the performer | source

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Maple Pecan Cinnamon Rolls

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