I heart my body

I didn't always used to heart my body.

In fact, I hated it.

As a child I couldn't have cared less. See, the fact that I had achondroplasia meant nothing to me. Sure, I was littler than everyone else my age. Most times I was littler than kids younger than me; but I could play and run and ride my bike and swim and climb trees and do pretty much everything that kids did at that age back in the 70's. God they were great times!

But then the teenage years hit, and hormones were let loose and there were changes in my body. And those changes were causing someone who was remaining the height of a 7 year old for the rest of her life, to develop the chest, hips and thighs of a woman.

And although I was in no way fat, to me it LOOKED fat, because all that womanliness on thighs that were less than 30cm long...well...it looks bigger than it really is.

Sometimes there were insensitive things said by people who I loved and admired:

"Little people shouldn't wear bikinis."
"Little people don't look good with long hair."
"You have short, fat feet."
"I'd be worried if a tall man/boy showed an interest in you because I'd wonder what they were after."
"Don't worry Leisa. Your brothers and sisters might beat you in height but you'll beat them in width."

So that left me with the impression that I was a freak, ugly, fat & not worthy of an "average" statured persons love - or anyone's really.

As a result I developed a pretty intense eating disorder, characterized by restricting what I ate, purging and intensive exercise. I continued this even as a young mother. My weight dropped to a tiny 31kg, my periods ceased...and I wasn't happy, because the need to be super skinny consumed my every waking moment.

I don't know what made me turn the corner. All I knew was that I couldn't go on like that anymore...and I wanted another baby. So I sought help. I talked to a professional. She wasn't the greatest counsellor in the world, but she helped.

And I began to realize that I was trying to change proportions that could never be changed. I would always look as though I "have junk in my trunk" because I have the stocky build of a person with achondroplasia...and that won't change.

Now, at the age of 45 I can honestly say that I heart my body. I am 36-37 kg - just where I should be. I am strong. I am healthy. I have taken up jogging and I just love it because it's "my thing". Through jogging my cardio fitness has improved so much, I am lean, I am strong.

I have the soft belly of a woman who has had the wonderful experience of carrying and growing four beautiful people. I love my belly with it's softness, pliability and the silvery stretch marks that serve as a reminder of my growing babies.

I watch my face as time carves it's lines and I see my skin bearing similar lines that adorn the faces of my beautiful parents...the two people I admire most on this earth. Although the aging process is confronting at times I am grateful that I have lived long enough to have these lines. I smile and watch my face crinkle and hope that the lines I bear when I'm an old, old lady are the deep smile lines of someone who has laughed and loved and lived.

I still have "junk in my trunk" but I love it. I am alive, strong, healthy. My body does everything I need it to do and I reward it by nurturing it with good food, an appropriate amount of exercise, plenty of sleep and relaxation. I keep my hair the way I want to - it's been super long and looked great. At the moment it's super short and looks great too. I wear what makes me feel good, regardless. This summer I'm going to be in a black bikini simply because I heart my body and wearing one makes me feel good, womanly and sexy. Maybe I'll still be wearing bikinis for another 20 years! Who knows?

But one thing I do know is that I now love my body, my little, achondroplastic body. I live in it and it's served me well. I'm proud of it. It may have taken 40 years to get to this place, but I'm here now and it's a wonderful place to be.