After my workout today, I stopped in the restroom at the gym. To understand what I’m about to tell you you need to realize that the walls of the bathroom are covered in chalk paint and notes from members of the gym, owners of the gym, coaches of the gym, etc. While I was in the restroom trying to read all the things (which is impossible by the way) I noticed one phrase that stuck out. you can’t heal a body that you hate. As I left the gym those words kept replaying in my head. “You can’t heal a body that you hate” I sat in my car and just cried a little bit because that’s what I’ve been doing. Hating my body. For years I’ve poisoned my body. I’ve not used my body properly. I’ve ignored my body when it was telling me something was wrong. I’ve hated it because of things that have happened to it and things that I’ve done to it. That one phrase among many changed something in me.
So somewhere between liberty Road and my apartment, I promised myself that I would start loving my body. I would start fueling it instead of punishing it. I would start pushing it to do stronger things. Start listening to it instead of ignoring it. I would use it to do things that I love and by the time I opened my door I had way more self-love than when I had left that same spot earlier. It also confirms that I have found the right people to be on this journey with.
I have no idea who wrote that on the wall. But I’m forever grateful that they did.