My tits sag.
Losing weight gets harder each year.
I have grey hairs.
I am unmarried, and childfree.
I have gone beyond "spinster" to "thornback" and while this term used to be derogatory, I think reclaiming it and owning it gives me power.
I have always had a love/hate relationship with my body. I think most women do, since we are indoctrinated and brainwashed at an early age to live up to an ideal, that our bodies are dirty, that we must be thin/pretty/feminine/delicate perfect enough for society to deem us worthy, and even then, we aren't. I've been overweight probably since puberty. I had C-cup breasts at 14 and was fully in a D-cup by the time I was 18. Even now I wear a DD, but it's hard to tell what my actual size is due to recent weight loss. They sag, anyway, and this is one of the recent body image crises I've endured.
Why is loving an accepting your body seen as a sign of radical feminism? Shouldn't it just be... the norm? Shouldn't we just love our saggy bits, jiggly bits, and wrinkly greying bits alongside our smooth and firm bits, muscular bits, and sleek bits? When I hit 40 I thought I just wouldn't care any more, but I honestly do care-- I care that my partner finds me attractive, I care that the world finds me attractive, I care that my body can do things, I care about how my clothes look. It's infinitesimally harder to not care than to care. So what if caring wasn't so bad, and not caring shouldn't be the end goal? Like, my tits may sag but they're healthy, my hair may be greying but it's long and shiny, weight comes off slowly but I have curves and a soft belly that reminds me of ancient artworks. I'm 40 and unmarried but I still go out and do what I want to do.
People worry a lot about me hiking solo but as an animist, I never feel like I am alone. These hikes give me time to reconnect with my spirituality, and reconnect with myself. I often spend my hikes in awe of what my body can accomplish, reveling in the tired muscles that seem to bounce back after a rest to eat and drink to carry me onward. Today, I went on a hike and, for the first time in my entire 40 years of existence, peed outside. I was terribly worried I would get it all over myself, but you know, I didn't. I actually watched the stream of urine and marveled that our bodies are made to do this. We're so disconnected from some of the functions of our bodies by modern convenience-- toilets hide our waste process, sanitary products disconnect us from our menstrual cycle. These things are unclean and not to be marveled at. But, despite being voluntarily sterilized 5 years ago and generally being uncomfortable every 22 days, it is a beautiful, holy process that was once revered for the sacred event it was. I may grumble about my cramps and weight gain each month, but deep down, my menstrual blood makes me feel powerful.It has been a struggle to love these things about me-- sagging breasts, menstruation, grey hairs-- but more and more as I get older, I do love them, even if the relationship with my body is still difficult, my body is strong and amazing. Women get more powerful as they get older. I am a thornback woman, and I can't wait until I can call myself a crone.
