Exercise, Body Confidence and M.E

Hola! After a lovely week away in Spain with the family I'm now back in Blighty with blonder hair, browner skin and a fairly unpleasant travel hangover. Now I'm back on home soil I'm going to have to be taking extra good care of my body for the next two weeks to prep myself for my big American adventure at the end of August- I've got all my fingers and toes crossed that my body copes reasonably well with this, and if not, well I'll have a super carer to look after me in the shape of my boyfriend Jamie.

Clockwise from top left: All freckly in the sun, beautiful Estepona harbour, colourful patterns at the Spanish market, sunning myself by the pool

The lazy nature of my holiday and the pretty intense Spanish heat meant that I've spent most of the week lounging around in bikinis, which is what's led to the writing of this post. I'm sure I'm not alone in saying that we women are never more concious of our bodies than when in a bikini- it's like being in your underwear except you're on display for all the world to see. Now, while I'm fairly happy with my body most of time- I look in the mirror and take a 'yeah, you'll do' kinda attitude, I'm not as body confident as I'd like to be, and there's one main reason for this; yep you've guessed it, it's my M.E.

Before my health took a bit of a nose-dive, with my M.E getting progressively worse once I started university, I had always been pretty fit. While I was far from being a gym bunny and spent most of my school P.E lessons on the sidelines of netball matches having faked doctors notes, watching swimming galas from the edge of the pool having lied to poor unquestioning male P.E's teacher that 'It was that time of the month' yet again or hiding out in the locker rooms, I was doing plenty of exercise in the form of dance. I love dancing. It's in my bones. Even when I'm exhausted and in pain I'll muster up my last remnants of energy to get up on the dancefloor. I attended hours of ballet, jazz and tap lessons a week and always dreamt of a life on the stage. Because of this (and lucky genetics) I was always super thin and super toned. My legs didn't touch at the top, they didn't wobble when I walked and muffin tops and love handle were something of a mystery to me. I'd eat an entire chocolate cake for lunch (ok, so my diet wasn't the best) and never gain a pound. Looking back, I know I was too thin. I always craved womanly curves and I had even less boobs than I do these days, and lets just say I'm not exactly blessed in the chest area now.

My well worn pointe shoes, currently left unused

When I was selecting uni's, their dance society was a big factor for me. Unfortunately, by the time I actually attended uni my health had deteriorated too far and I was unable to attend even one one-hour ballet class a week. Naturally my body paid the price and I put nearly a stone and lost all the body tone that I'd built up over a lifetime of dancing. Yes I've got the slightly more womanly shape I always wanted and my boobs aren't completely non existent- but I can't help but think that the body I see in the mirror isn't mine.

As my body changed, so did my body confidence and it's taken me a long time to fully understand why. 

I don't believe you have to be thin to be beautiful- I think that that's one almighty fallacy created by the media and celebrity culture in which we life, one which affects the confidence of women all around the world. But this has never been my problem. I don't envy the Victoria's Secret models and I rarely compare myself to others, I hold my head high and walk with confidence in my new bodycon dress. So why is it that when I look in the mirror I'm never satisfied with what I see? The fat on my hips, the wobble in my thighs and the pouch of my belly all serve as a constant reminder that I'm too ill to do the thing that I love the most. I'm too ill to dance. While I do my best to hid my tired skin with make up and wash my hair every other day to keep it bouncy and healthy looking, in my opinion my body gives away my secret. The secret that I'm ill. It reminds me everyday that I can't exercise when I want to, and that I'll likely never fulfil my dream of working as a dancer. 

Slowly but surely I'm gradually trying to come to terms with this- but it's very difficult. Exercise wasn't just a hobby, it was my life, my future- to have this taken away from you at such a young age is heartbreaking. I have down days where I exercise beyond my capabilities, push myself to far and end up with an awful flare, stuck in bed unable to do anything. I've now taken up yoga (post coming soon) as a form of gentle exercise, something I can do which makes me feel as though I'm achieving something without damaging my recovery. I love it. It's filled a gap in my life and has done so much for my mental well-being as well as my physical health.

I wanted to write this post to show that M.E can be a truly devastating illness. It's not just the plethora of symptoms we have to deal with on a day-to-day basis we also have to cope with the immense changes it makes to our lives. It's not an illness to be scoffed at- it's destructive. It reroutes our futures, affects our relationships and alters the way we see ourselves and our lives. But just like many others, I'm determined not to let in take my life away.

My hope is that one day I'll be able to fully accept my new slower pace of life, develop a new dream and new plan for the future, and embrace my body for what it is. I may not be super toned, I may not have a a wash board stomach or cellulite free thighs, but my body is strong. It's the body of a fighter; recovering, overcoming and challenging illness. While sometimes it may be rather dysfunctional and frustrating- it's a body to be proud of. 

Alice 

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