I feel this gradual shift in my relationship with my body. There are so many layers to this journey and this story. The same path I traveled in relation to my sexuality–rejection/beat into submission, to resignation, then acceptance, then caring for and now loving and nurturing–seems to be the one I am on with my body, especially in terms of its finiteness/limitations (ya know, being human). Over the last few years I have come to accept it, and currently I am in the beginning parts of turning towards it with care and compassion. Needs, pain, disability, trauma... it is a lot. And wow does it often trigger the old beliefs and expectations that made me separate myself from my body in the first place. This often feels like a very lonely journey. Thanks for your sharing your voice.
I'm usually drawn to your critical race work, but WOW - did I ever need to read *this* TODAY! Woke up feeling like I'd been run over by a bus. For no "apparent" reason. Very much struggling/wrestling/slowly learning to accept that this body I live in today is not the body I lived in even just 3-4 years ago. And that today's fatigue, aches, chills, etc. was not me getting sick, but just...the way it is some days. And while my friends and I who are going through similar adjustments are all frantically reading and sharing info on how to navigate this season, you and Spence have shared a powerful truth here that there is no "one size fits all" user manual. But there is wellness - and there is "well-ness" - in my broken body. Your words today helped me reach deeper into my internal well. Much gratitude.
Thank you for writing & sharing this movement toward acceptance & a shift in perspective toward your body.
I keep trying to find the magical combination of exercise, eating , etc. so I can achieve a level of fitness I haven’t had in over 10 years - it almost feels like a moral failure that I just can’t do it!
Thank you for this. I am realizing after decades of saying, "someday this will be better" that my body is broken and can't be fixed. There are good days and bad days and there are days where all I can do is lay in bed and scream. But my body is still here, carrying me. And I am learning to treat it with a different kind of care than I had been taught. My manual is thick, highlighted, notes in the margins, because my body is still sacred as God gives it breath.
1. “My body’s brokenness is testimony to what she has survived and how she continues to survive”.
Ten months ago on Maundy Thursday, I suddenly became a Heart Patient after surviving a rare, life-threatening cardiac event. It was one of those dramatic “before and after” moments that has forever changed my life and my body. While I still find it hard to accept, being a Heart Patient is very much a part of my identity now. I survived something that could have killed me and, even with the limitations, my body is a testament to the fact that I am alive.
2. “I am learning to celebrate my wellness while acknowledging my brokenness.”
I have to admit, I am BARELY learning to celebrate my wellness. Yes, I am doing so much better than 10 months ago. AND, I’ve also been hospitalized 4 times in 7 months for a total of 15 nights. My cardiac diagnoses are the type that register immediate worry on the face of any medical provider, even when I went to the clinic for a simple ear infection.
Every. Single. Cardiologist in the region knows about my case when they hear my name. Having an unusual cardiac history is most definitely NOT the type of uniqueness for which I want to be well-known. I have to take soooo medications, which still require fine-tuning.
I am still new to the idea of celebrating my wellness in the midst of my body’s brokenness … And yet, I just came home after playing the piano for the Sunday morning worship service at my church. I’m proud of the beautiful music that my broken body can create. I am proud of how the sounds generated by my imperfect body helped the congregation lift their voices together in song …. They sang with gusto this morning, and it was moving and joyful to hear them. I saw a few people with tears in their eyes during one hymn. A lady came up to me after the service and said, “I really can’t sing well at all, and I usually don’t sing because I sound terrible. But, the way you played the piano made me feel like I actually could sing. I just closed my eyes and sang because it was such a beautiful moment.” My broken body gave a self-conscious woman the courage to sing along with her family of faith… it’s an honour. This truly is a sign of wellness within my body’s brokenness.
Dr. Chanequa, thank you so much for helping me see this; your writing helped me appreciate my body after so many hard months. Thank you and bless you for your honesty and bravery in writing these beautiful and life-giving words.
I read this after journaling about recent bloodwork results, that left me feeling surprised and disappointed, and then frustrated with myself when I noticed my own reaction. I’ve come a long way in accepting the body I live in, and I also I wish I could be farther along in acceptance. Thanks for sharing from your place of lived wisdom.
The timing of this post for me is so perfect. I resonate with almost everything you said. Some of the struggle for me in accepting my body’s limitations is that others in my family who are very affected by my illness aren’t at the same place in their acceptance journey. And this affects our relationship, because it can appear to them that this is the life that I “want” and have “chosen.” Have you had any experience with this? And if so, do you have any thoughts on working through it?
I could have written almost every word you wrote except I also experienced two motor vehicle accidents, (two different women-one fell asleep at the wheel after taking pain medication for a knee surgery and one was texting!), which resulted in a serious TBI I have been learning to live with and accept. Now I give thanks each and everyday for what is, what has been and what will be. It took time to get here. Once in a while I am pulled back. Thankfully my motivation to move forward is strong, therefore leading me to continue doing all those things helpful for healing and stability! I would love to know more of your story.
“And there is wellness in my broken body.” Amen! May I be able to see it.
Thank you, Dr. Chanequa, for your words that encourage me to care for myself and my body in better ways.
I feel this gradual shift in my relationship with my body. There are so many layers to this journey and this story. The same path I traveled in relation to my sexuality–rejection/beat into submission, to resignation, then acceptance, then caring for and now loving and nurturing–seems to be the one I am on with my body, especially in terms of its finiteness/limitations (ya know, being human). Over the last few years I have come to accept it, and currently I am in the beginning parts of turning towards it with care and compassion. Needs, pain, disability, trauma... it is a lot. And wow does it often trigger the old beliefs and expectations that made me separate myself from my body in the first place. This often feels like a very lonely journey. Thanks for your sharing your voice.
I'm usually drawn to your critical race work, but WOW - did I ever need to read *this* TODAY! Woke up feeling like I'd been run over by a bus. For no "apparent" reason. Very much struggling/wrestling/slowly learning to accept that this body I live in today is not the body I lived in even just 3-4 years ago. And that today's fatigue, aches, chills, etc. was not me getting sick, but just...the way it is some days. And while my friends and I who are going through similar adjustments are all frantically reading and sharing info on how to navigate this season, you and Spence have shared a powerful truth here that there is no "one size fits all" user manual. But there is wellness - and there is "well-ness" - in my broken body. Your words today helped me reach deeper into my internal well. Much gratitude.
Thank you for writing & sharing this movement toward acceptance & a shift in perspective toward your body.
I keep trying to find the magical combination of exercise, eating , etc. so I can achieve a level of fitness I haven’t had in over 10 years - it almost feels like a moral failure that I just can’t do it!
Again thank you! 🙏🩷
Thank you for this. I am realizing after decades of saying, "someday this will be better" that my body is broken and can't be fixed. There are good days and bad days and there are days where all I can do is lay in bed and scream. But my body is still here, carrying me. And I am learning to treat it with a different kind of care than I had been taught. My manual is thick, highlighted, notes in the margins, because my body is still sacred as God gives it breath.
Two things resonated deeply with me:
1. “My body’s brokenness is testimony to what she has survived and how she continues to survive”.
Ten months ago on Maundy Thursday, I suddenly became a Heart Patient after surviving a rare, life-threatening cardiac event. It was one of those dramatic “before and after” moments that has forever changed my life and my body. While I still find it hard to accept, being a Heart Patient is very much a part of my identity now. I survived something that could have killed me and, even with the limitations, my body is a testament to the fact that I am alive.
2. “I am learning to celebrate my wellness while acknowledging my brokenness.”
I have to admit, I am BARELY learning to celebrate my wellness. Yes, I am doing so much better than 10 months ago. AND, I’ve also been hospitalized 4 times in 7 months for a total of 15 nights. My cardiac diagnoses are the type that register immediate worry on the face of any medical provider, even when I went to the clinic for a simple ear infection.
Every. Single. Cardiologist in the region knows about my case when they hear my name. Having an unusual cardiac history is most definitely NOT the type of uniqueness for which I want to be well-known. I have to take soooo medications, which still require fine-tuning.
I am still new to the idea of celebrating my wellness in the midst of my body’s brokenness … And yet, I just came home after playing the piano for the Sunday morning worship service at my church. I’m proud of the beautiful music that my broken body can create. I am proud of how the sounds generated by my imperfect body helped the congregation lift their voices together in song …. They sang with gusto this morning, and it was moving and joyful to hear them. I saw a few people with tears in their eyes during one hymn. A lady came up to me after the service and said, “I really can’t sing well at all, and I usually don’t sing because I sound terrible. But, the way you played the piano made me feel like I actually could sing. I just closed my eyes and sang because it was such a beautiful moment.” My broken body gave a self-conscious woman the courage to sing along with her family of faith… it’s an honour. This truly is a sign of wellness within my body’s brokenness.
Dr. Chanequa, thank you so much for helping me see this; your writing helped me appreciate my body after so many hard months. Thank you and bless you for your honesty and bravery in writing these beautiful and life-giving words.
I read this after journaling about recent bloodwork results, that left me feeling surprised and disappointed, and then frustrated with myself when I noticed my own reaction. I’ve come a long way in accepting the body I live in, and I also I wish I could be farther along in acceptance. Thanks for sharing from your place of lived wisdom.
The timing of this post for me is so perfect. I resonate with almost everything you said. Some of the struggle for me in accepting my body’s limitations is that others in my family who are very affected by my illness aren’t at the same place in their acceptance journey. And this affects our relationship, because it can appear to them that this is the life that I “want” and have “chosen.” Have you had any experience with this? And if so, do you have any thoughts on working through it?
I could have written almost every word you wrote except I also experienced two motor vehicle accidents, (two different women-one fell asleep at the wheel after taking pain medication for a knee surgery and one was texting!), which resulted in a serious TBI I have been learning to live with and accept. Now I give thanks each and everyday for what is, what has been and what will be. It took time to get here. Once in a while I am pulled back. Thankfully my motivation to move forward is strong, therefore leading me to continue doing all those things helpful for healing and stability! I would love to know more of your story.