Finding Everyday Inspiration: I Hate My Body

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Part of WordPress’s writing course Finding Everyday Inspiration.

When I plagued my readers with the inquiry what I should write about, Michael from Morpethroad came up with a topic I never considered before: “Your body – how you see it, have used it, have cared for it, how it’s regarded by others.” That’s an appropriate occasion to list some of the complaints I’ve been receiving from my body, which I apparently hate, considering how I mistreat it (I’d say outright that I abuse myself, but I suspect it might come out wrong).


I was born with an unsightly brown patch on my face. Since we don’t live in Sparta, my parents didn’t resort to tossing me off the cliff (though if they would have, they’d save everyone a lot of trouble). Whatever the patch was (probably a witch mark), it disappeared before I got old enough to be disposed of in pre-school and exposed to mean kids laughing at me. The kids laughed at me anyway because my father was regularly forgetting to pick me up as he got easily distracted by the pubs he was passing on the way.

I was also born bald. My baldness persisted for several years. My mother made me wear a headscarf to hide it (back then a headscarf didn’t have religious connotations because we were tucked behind the Iron Curtain and knew nothing). She also treated my hairless head with green water in which nettle plants were boiled. It probably worked because I grew hair, lots of hair, and my mother is never going to forgive me that I wear it half-shaved these days. I mean, she put so much effort into growing it.

Some body parts

When I was a kid, I apparently attempted to kill myself. Don’t get scared, it qualified more as incomplete manslaughter rather than as attempted murder. I was warned not to go sledging down the steep hill in the woods behind the house, so I naturally went to sledge there. The sledge gained unexpected speed and since I was too clueless to remember that the sledge had brakes, I hit a tree in full speed. I was unconscious for a bit and had a wonderful dream about the Hansel and Gretel fairy-tale. I spent two weeks in hospital with concussion but was most worried about my parents yelling at me.

Now I think my body is trying to communicate with me but I mostly ignore it. I mean, I’m trying to defeat its demands through sheer willpower. I’m not particularly excited with how the body is working, but since it’s past its expiry date, I can’t return it, so I guess I’d better just get used to it. I could have ended up with a worse one. For example, I could have had crooked teeth. Wait. I got crooked teeth. Anyway. Let’s look at the bright side: it will be so awesome when my teeth fall out and I’ll have perfectly white and perfectly straight dentures to replace them. No?

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27 comments on “Finding Everyday Inspiration: I Hate My Body”

  1. Green water and Nettles. I got stung by those nasty plants as a child. Apparently that doesn’t work for men as my head is half bald. Need mother’s recipe!

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  2. You could look at it all as growing into the beautiful woman you are today despite your best efforts to fight against….writing about our body is a real challenge I think under any circumstances..you did well my dear….my mother on her 21st birthday received the ‘gift’ of dentures as she lived in the pre-flouride days….not sure that was her preferred way to go…

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    1. Aw, thank you for such a heartwarming comment! The prompt you came up with turned out to be really very difficult – it’s a sensitive subject, one’s body, and you have contradictory feelings about it. So thank you for challenging me to this!

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      1. Well I do understand and I think at various times I’ve written about myself and never in very glowing terms, then again you can argue that as you age there isn’t a lot that can be said for it as it stops working like it did when you ere much younger, hence the expression, It sucks getting old. But you have years before you need to think that way.

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  3. My husband’s uncle, who was beginning to lose his hair, was told a fail safe old wive’s tail about regrowing hair. It was a two step thing. 1 – shave it all off. 2 – plaster cow dung all over the scalp and leave on for I think it was 24 hours.
    Sadly, even his existing , shorn off hair, never grew back! Be grateful you got nettles instead 🙂

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      1. Yep! Mum had interesting ideas too, but they did not include excreta 🙂 At one point she tried to talk my husband, who is bald (-ing), into smothering his scalp with onion juice. Thank goodness he had the guts to say no!

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  4. I hope your intention was to be funny, because you made me laugh out loud 😀
    I can relate to the line “Now I think my body is trying to communicate with me but I mostly ignore it”.

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  5. I hate my body too. At least one part of it: the stomach.
    Not because it’s too big or because I want a six-pack or anything like that, but because I’m a celiac.
    (to save you the trouble of looking things up, I’ll quote some WIkipedia articles).

    “Coeliac disease, also spelled celiac disease, is a long term autoimmune disorder primarily affecting the small intestine that occurs in people who are genetically predisposed.”

    On my tenth birthday, nobody knew I was a celiac and I ended up being hospitalized that day with Gastric volvulus – my body couldn’t handle all the gluten I had been eating that day.
    At the hospital, instead of fixing me or trying to figure out what was actually wrong, they removed my appendix and sent me back home. 4 days later I was back at the same hospital and they sent me to another hospital. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong either and sent me super-express to a third hospital (my first near death experience as far as I can remember).
    In the end I ended up spending one month at 3 different hospitals.

    “Gastric volvulus or volvulus of stomach is a twisting of all or part of the stomach by more than 180 degrees with obstruction of the flow of material through the stomach, variable loss of blood supply and possible tissue death.”

    Gastric volvulus can lead to Peritonitis:

    …an inflammation of the peritoneum, the thin tissue that lines the inner wall of the abdomen and covers most of the abdominal organs. Without being treated, generalised peritonitis almost always causes death.

    After having went through surgery and healed a bit, I was sent back home, but all the stress on the body created a hernia, so 4 hours after I returned home I was sent back to the hospital again for more surgery.

    “A hernia is the abnormal exit of tissue or an organ, such as the bowel, through the wall of the cavity in which it normally resides”

    Fast forward til present:
    Now the celiac disease has given me Dermatitis herpetiformis – mainly in my scalp. I’ve been to 3 different skin specialists and 2 or 4 GP’s, but none of them has managed to figure it out: they’ve tried to treat me with different ointments such as: steroid cream, anti-biotic cream, fungus cream and now lately something for psoriasis. They’re all wrong and I’ve diagnosed myself.

    “Dermatitis herpetiformis (DH), or Duhring’s disease, is a chronic blistering skin condition, characterised by blisters filled with a watery fluid. Despite its name, DH is neither related to nor caused by herpes virus: the name means that it is a skin inflammation having an appearance similar to herpes.”

    Unfortunately none of this stuff has killed me yet, but I’m confident I will die some day.
    So, you see, it’s not such a sad story after all.

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    1. Okay, hands down, your body story is much worse than anything I experienced. I only hate my belly because I wish it was as flat as my chest. The horror stories of how people get misdiagnosed or go undiagnosed are particularly full of horror. I mean, we can do bloody organ transplants, so how come that people aren’t diagnosed properly or just have their symptoms treated instead of the cause? Makes one sad.

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