Member-only story
The Space We Fill
On reconnecting with my body and quieting the chaos in my mind
In 2014 I started going to the gym. Not to get fit or lean or build muscle mass, but to burn energy. I was crawling with it. It felt like ants under my skin. Angry ants revolting against a tyrannical queen.
So, when vodka and all-night marathon painting sessions failed to quiet the manic chaos, I dragged my messy anthill ass to the Fairmont Hotel gym at the airport. I work at the airport, so this was convenient. I could go immediately before or after my shift. I developed a routine: stationary bike, weights, cry in the sauna, shower.
My fascination was not so much with the physical changes themselves, but with how I had dictated the rules of transformation for my body.
My body started to change, tighten. When I added squats, my butt started to appear higher and more defined; looking at myself in the full-length mirror of the changing room also became part of the routine. I was fascinated.
This sounds like vanity. But prior to this, changes to my body’s shape had occurred without intent on my part. And whatever the changes were, they would seem to dictate how I was expected to behave in the world, how proud I was meant to be, how boisterous, how bold. My fascination was not so much with the physical changes themselves, but with how I had dictated the rules of transformation for my body — instead of the rules seeming to be dictated by my body’s transformation.
For me, the transition from girl to woman had been something breaking, not maturing. My body changed quickly, extremely, and while I was still a child. This new form felt like it didn’t belong to me anymore, like this body was now a commodity provoking opinions from friends and strangers. And whether or not these opinions were shared with me, my physical form was now linked to my importance.
We speak of raising young girls to know their worth. To know that their value is immeasurable and their humanity is equal to anyone else’s. But if society isn’t reflective of these sentiments, they are only platitudes.
