The mirror in my hallway is a bit blurry these days. It’s not just the fingerprints from River and Oak–competing for the best angle. It isn’t just the glasses that I have needed to wear more often that not this spring and summer, it is not the mirror’s angle. (Though I have attempted that excuse.) And to be frank, I’m not sure it is the weight I lost (and gained) or the immense vulnerability that accompanies the release of a book and a book tour. There are many potential reason, and the awkward discomfort I am having within my body is so clear and blurry to me, at once.
I started noticing it when the tour slowed down, and I no longer knew how to position my body for a photo. Photos, that I’ve done for a living for nearly a decade. Then it was this sluggish continuum, that wasn’t just the energy I was putting into and taking from people. It wasn’t that I wasn’t getting dressed every day. I thought, it was exhaustion, manifesting into my body. I went to the doctor, wondering if it was something in my blood-inflamation rearing it’s head again. And while those parts of me never went away, really, it wasn’t that either. “You gained 12 pounds since you were here last..” she said with love and suspicion. I couldn’t think of anything that would cause it–drawing a blank stare. Then.. I remembered.. I got an IUD. Mirena to be specific.
In an attempt to take control over the path of this body of mine, and what it wants to do and shouldn’t do (I’m one of five and in my 20s, I know I can easily, without question, get pregnant. It is a matter of genetics, passion, and timing). The IUD was the easy answer. It hurt to put in, but would only hurt once. I wouldn’t need to remember pills. And better yet, I wouldn’t get pregnant. Both of which seemed like easy routes. I knew my body hadn’t done super well with pills in the past, hence every time I’ve been on them, it has been temporary. But an IUD seemed like the better of all the options for the road of my life. A permanent child-care fix, if there ever was one. My sensitiviy to life, body, hormones, etc didn’t feel like something to wager.
My doctor asked me more questions about how I was feeling. And while I think it could have been a general life feeling with inflammation, I couldn’t help but ignore the ache in my stomach that said it was my IUD. So, I got it out.
Since, I haven’t weighed myself since, I’m not sure where I stack up. I don’t care what numbers on a scale say. I want to unblur the mirror, swipe it clean. Again. Again. My eating hasn’t changed, but I’m back to pilates. I got a jump rope to help kick up my system. And more than that, I want to talk about the blurriness of bodies. Especially in seasons of transitions. A huge part of me feels like all of this is a conglomeration of everything I’ve been through the past few months (and years), and a undertone of the discomfort with what’s ahead. I turn 30 in two weeks. TWO weeks. In my twenties, my relationships, my work, my livelihood, my career, my life experiences, and of course, my body, has changed so much. Is the discomfort, the sudden shift of how to hold oneself part of that?
Sometimes, a body is a blurry space.