endowhat? — Endo + Chronic Illness

I would love to be body positive about my own body, but the truth is I’m not. I find it much easier to point out how beautiful my friends are and scoff when they put themselves down.

I don’t *hate* parts of myself like I did as a teenager and a young adult. I’ve come to terms with the general shape of my body and how it looks as it has fluctuated through changes born of surgeries, race training, and new ways of eating.

But I don’t love it either. When I went to try on wedding dresses, the first thing I told the consultant was I wanted to be able to wear a normal bra to minimize my boobs but I also didn’t want something that made me look matronly (something us big-boobers deal with often). When looking back at photos from the NYC Marathon, I’m so grateful that my strong legs got me through the training and 26.2 miles, but how big my thighs looked didn’t escape my hypercritical eye.

In a nutshell, my feelings about my body are complex. Sometimes they’re positive and sometimes they’re negative. But as feminist as I strive to be and as much as I want to love my body, I can’t say my feelings about it ever even approach the radical self-love movement pervading Instagram. And as a feminist I feel guilty about this, a hypocrite when I try to pump up the self-esteem of others.

The reality is my feelings about my body extend far beyond what I see in the mirror. With chronic illness, you become keenly aware of what is going on inside of you and the fact that it isn’t working the way it’s supposed to. With endometriosis, you’re confronted with understanding that that which makes you a woman is also that which causes you unbearable pain and anguish. Something that is to date incurable is causing your own body to sabotage itself. Forget body positivity. It challenges even my ability to feel grateful for the parts of my body that do work the way they’re supposed to.

So when Dr. Sam DuFlo of Indigo Physiotherapy connected me with photographer Jillian Mills after coming up with the idea of doing a boudoir popup party for the Baltimore Flow, I thought it would be great for the members of the Flow. I imagined myself in a coordinator role, but certainly not a subject to be photographed myself.

How would a boudoir shoot work in a group setting? We talked about setting up a private space for each person to go one by one or doing it all together, cheering each other on. They asked what I’d prefer if it was me.

“Definitely private,” I said, blanching at the thought of multiple people seeing me in my underwear at once.

As the brainstorming session went on though, we came to the agreement that all together would be more suitable. Jill, having done similar popups before, said we’d likely have to designate someone to go first. Sam and Jill looked at me.

The look on my face told them all they needed to know.

“I’m not going to lie,” I said. “This strikes fear in my heart, but I can do this for the Flow. I can take one for the team.”

Still, as the conversation went on and we considered how we’d promote the event, Jill said she had photographs she could use to make a flyer, but it would be better if it was someone from the Flow…like me.

And that’s how I got talked into doing a boudoir shoot.

When I think back to that conversation though, it wasn’t just about doing it for the Flow. That conversation inspired me. Jill tapped into something I had long been thinking about but hadn’t articulated fully to myself or to anyone else.

Body positivity is a beautiful thing and those who embrace it should be celebrated. But for those of us who haven’t gotten there — may never get there — should we feel doubly bad? Do I feel bad about my body AND bad about the fact that I don’t like my body and can’t seem to find a way to?

Maybe it’s enough to get to a place of acceptance and peace. When Jill articulated this concept, it was like an epiphany to me. I don’t HAVE to get to a place of loving my body. Of course it would be great, but feeling comfortable in my own skin and at peace with all its quirks and flaws might be great too.

I’m confident in so many other ways. I’m proud of the work I’ve done in the endo community and advocacy space. I’m happy with the career I’ve crafted and confident it will continue to progress and I’ll continue to grow. I’m grateful for the amazing network of support I have and credit myself with intentionally choosing the people I want in my life. So can I get to a similar place of satisfaction with my body?

Only time will tell, but I will say my photo shoot with Jill was a great step in the right direction. This is not an advertisement — she’s just really THAT good. When I showed my photos to a couple of my best friends and Scott, they all commented on how comfortable and confident I looked. Jill makes this easy even though previously, fully clothed, I’ve only felt awkward and uncomfortable in front of the camera. I didn’t have to find lingerie to wear (that is SO not me). Instead I came prepared with loungewear and some athletic clothes. I didn’t have to figure out how to “perform” sexy; she just told me where to look and how to sit or stand.

So often we see images of endometriosis that are hard to look at — surgical scars, skin discolored from extensive heating pad use, bloated bellies, and pale, anguished faces. So I’m really excited that with Jill and the support of Dr. Sam and Indigo Physiotherapy, next month for Endometriosis Awareness Month, we’ll be celebrating our bodies, finding the beauty in them, and making inroads toward becoming at peace with them (for those of us who aren’t there yet…kudos to those of us who are!). My experience with Jill was empowering and joyful and I can’t wait for the Flow-ers to experience that too.

Flow Portraits will take place March 14 at Indigo Physiotherapy from 11 a.m.-2 p.m. and is currently open to members of the Baltimore Flow. It is a ticketed event, and tickets are pay-what-you-wish with a suggested donation of $50; 100 percent of these donations will go to the EndoWhat? School Nurse Initiative, which sends educational materials to school nurses to help them identify symptoms of endometriosis in students. We’ll be able to choose the schools the packets go to, so this money will be reinvested in our community in Baltimore.

For more information, you can visit the Facebook event page here and Jill’s post about it here. You can buy your ticket here, and make sure you do because spots are limited!

xo,
S