Naming It

Two conversations in the last 48 hours—different in tone, miles apart in geography—have been sitting with me.

One with Suse Fish 🇬🇧 ministry missus who suggested dance as an act of joy. She told me about the freedom she finds in moving alongside others, “a mental health boost.” I shared I’d felt that joy, too, but then the mirrors took it away. We conversed about body image, self-love, and the long list of “shoulds” that crowd out joy. I recognize her suggestions and shares weren’t a prescription, but a glimpse into what’s possible when we rid ourselves of this self-imposed critical lens.

But then the second private email conversation with a friend unfolded the slow, heavy weight of how this critical lens takes shape.

She’s learned to move again, she’s loving the strength in her body, she’s grateful for it. But she, like me, worries what we—as a society—are shaping for our daughters and how we may subconsciously be contributing to it even as we fight it ourselves.

We’re all living in different climates of shame and striving.

I don’t have a takeaway, except maybe this: There is power in naming. There is healing in hearing someone say, me too, but differently.