Dancin' In Your Drawers : A Teaser... until next time.

I assure you that in the midst of the exciting hustle and bustle of all that goes into rebuilding my life, I am hard at work on putting together some more undie dancing posts....ones that actually involve all the awesome friends who took the time out of their own crazy schedules to share what letting their inhibitions go and feeling the music means to them personally! But in the meantime, I found this little article a while back while doing some "research" on this very topic and thought sharing it might be a fun way to offer a song for cutting loose on your own. It just so happens that the lead singer of a song that was a staple of my underwear dancing repertoire earlier this summer also likes to dance privately in less than normal clothing to boost her confidence when she needs it most. Here's a link to the article and here is a great song for going bananas in your skivvies. It may be a bit overplayed by now thanks to its radio friendliness, but don't let that stop you from letting the music set you free, if only for a few minutes. Until next time.....


Florence Welsh dances in underwear before shows

Sparks of Beauty gets personal.....a series of sharing the "little things" I find to be extraordinary.

"Forget past mistakes. Forget failures. Forget everything except what you're going to do now, and do it."  - William Durant

If only my enthusiasm for sharing thoughts on self-worth and beauty or the wonderful stories and songs many friends have relayed for part of my little underwear dancing project matched the time I actually had to sit down and write something worth reading. Alas, that is unfortunately not the case. I have a pretty excellent excuse, as I’m finally working again ,which means my physical health has grown by leaps and bounds – hooray! – but I do find myself wishing there were a few more hours in the day for the sole purpose of writing, particularly writing for this blog on a regular basis. Though averaging a mere post or two a month, sharing my thoughts via Democracy of Beauty, has in many way been the saving grace of my self worth since saying goodbye to New York. I’ve stated numerous times that this blog helps me every bit as much as anyone reading it, and I whole heartedly stand by that affirmation. That is exactly what is compelling me to write this evening despite my body casting a vote for sitting around and doing absolutely nothing. Though tempted to take a stab at writing an accompaniment to some of those yet to be shared dancin’ in your drawers tales sent my way, something inside is definitively pulling me to share something a bit more personal. I only hope it’s not selfish to admit that writing it is as much for my benefit as yours.

As I’m continuing to adjust to my new hometown and everything that entails, it’s easy to dismiss just how much change I’ve gone through over the past 7 months or so and wind up being hard on myself when I struggle with my self worth. I’ve always been one of those deep feeling gals who truly takes most everything to heart, and so – at the risk of sounding like a broken record – I turn anything and everything not up to par inward and use it to back up every fault my inner critic says I possess. Some of these things are related to who I am as a person, but  lately I’ve become more and more aware of just how often they seem to regard my physical appearance. I feel a bit like a hypocrite saying that, given what I "preach" about real beauty and how vital it is to our happiness as human beings that we recognize and value it, but I can assure you with everything in me that all that I’ve written is what I truly believe deep inside. It’s incredibly frustrating to know what is true and still struggle to recognize it in yourself. That has been my personal struggle as of late,and I would easily take a wild guess that I’m far from alone in it. I know what I’ve been through and I know why I have issues with myself in the manner I do, but that does nothing to lessen the burden.  Meeting new people who eventually learn that I had lived in New York for many years usually elicits admiration and even awe from those who have never ventured to such a place all by themselves, often stating how "brave" or "strong" I must be. For me the brave and strong part was always that I went there to conquer my anorexia and find myself.... and I succeeded, but as unbelievably difficult as that was, I would say that what I have been through this year is quite possibly the most difficulty I have ever faced. Not just what I lost, gave up and fought for with regard to getting healthy and  learning to live my life again, but working every step of the way to truly value myself in every sense of the word. Anyone who dares to enter the battle of true self-acceptance is a warrior in my eyes,and that’s a battle I am determined to win once and for all.

Sure, we’re all only human and we will always have doubts and fears that creep up on us and let that negative self-talk loose, but I’m talking about not letting it rule me and ruin all the fantastic things I’m fortunate enough to have in my life. I’m certainly no therapist and to pretend that I know a way to guarantee self-worth would be ridiculous. But what my experience over the past year and a half or so – particularly the past seven months – has been able to reveal to me is how very much there is to appreciate about myself, my body, and my life. In my grandest hopes and dreams, I never would have imagined myself being where I am now. I am getting physically healthier every day, and constantly learning new ways to continue to keep my body strong. I’m able to work for the first time in over a year. And, most importantly, I think more than ever before, I am truly myself, and those near and far who I am lucky enough to have in my life, accept and love that real me more than anyone ever has. This “should” be enough, or at least that’s what I tell myself when I’m feeling particularly critical. But old habits, coping skills, and the constant barrage of the superficial, appearance obsessed culture we live in are holding on for dear life. I may be strong enough to toss all that aside with a mere finger when I look at someone else, but when I look at myself I often feel paralyzed to anything but accepting those ugly lies. As much as I love so many things about New York City, it and some of the people that I unfortunately chose to have in my life at the time, did a real number on the fight in me when it comes to superficial qualities. It would have been hard enough after dealing with the health issues I faced and what they did to my body, but having that constant outward value shoved in my face nearly every time I stepped outside my apartment has made it even more so. Though those negative individuals have been out of my life for many months, what they drummed into my subconscious lingers and gives a near continuous shot of power to every self- doubt I already possessed deep inside. For once it’s not anyone around me that doesn’t think I’m good enough; it’s me. Sure, there are outside factors.The simplest of these is that I’m now living in a college town which means a lot of much younger women whose bodies have yet to go through even a fraction of the wear and tear that I have been through. I live in an apartment complex with several of them and am now working with a few as well.  It hasn’t been easy to conquer the thoughts that go through my mind. But when I take a good look at what I have in my life and realize that I alone,really am the only one in my life who’s thinking such things, I know that no matter how difficult it may seem, I’m more than capable if I set my mind to it. And I honestly believe that if you surround yourself with the same attitude, you will be more than capable too, no matter how daunting it seems at its worst.

It’s funny how any time I seem to have some sort of breakthrough regarding my self-worth, life just loves to test me. Just last week I had a pretty “interesting” experience that really forced me to take a look at what I value and what’s really important to me at the end of the day. Over the past two months or so I’ve begun to workout again. At first it was just dvds in my apartment, but I have since graduated to going to the great little gym for the tenants of my complex just across the parking lot. I’m nowhere near the level of fitness I hope to be, but at this point in my life, I’m more than happy to be able to do what I’m able to do now. The first couple times I had gone I was either alone or sharing the space with a couple guys that were as much in their own little workout zone as I like to be, so I felt about as comfortable as could be expected. But last week, the day after I’d done some very serious thinking about how much I needed to do everything I could to stop judging myself so harshly and was feeling quite positive,  a young woman is in the gym as I approach. I see through the window that she is very fit and probably several years younger than me, but whatever... I could suck it up and focus on myself and my music. No problem. At least that’s what I thought until I entered the gym and saw that not only was this woman watching one of those top model tv shows, she also had the volume turned up to what I would estimate was as loud as it could possibly go. So that’s a super fit young girl running effortlessly on the treadmill next to me, 8 runway models from that ever triggering city of New York coming at me at full volume, and I’m not done yet. The small building that houses our one room gym leads directly out to the complex’s inground pool. There are three sizable windows that allow for gazing out as much as looking in, though I can’t imagine why anyone lounging by the pool on a beautiful day would want to look at some sweaty person on a treadmill. Yet sure enough, there were about five or so young women lounging by the pool with their tanned and toned bikini bodies on full display, and it only took a few minutes of me being on the elliptical machine for them to notice me. Who knows why so many young adults still seem to get a rush out of whispering about others in plain view in the not so subtle way that eerily reminds me of junior high, but it often seems  they do. For all I know they could have been saying something positive about me, but being in the vulnerable position of wearing form fitting workout attire next to Miss Fitness USA over there with ears and eyes being overwhelmed with models going on about how stressful it is to be so beautiful, and having a gaggle of college girls in bikinis looking at me, it didn’t matter what they were saying – I ached to find a dark hole to crawl in and hide. But that’s not what I did. Instead I took a few slow, deep breaths and a mental step back to assess the situation calmly and rationally. I really wasn’t sure whether I would be able to withstand all these triggers at once or not, but I knew if I walked away it was going to be because that was the healthiest thing for me to do. I thought for a few minutes about why it was important to me to exercise, why I had chosen this time of day, and how I would benefit from it. I thought about indescribably grateful I am for the amazing fact that my body is actually capable of working out less than a year after not knowing whether I’d ever be healthy and strong. I thought about how many important changes I’ve made in my day to day lifestyle for the specific purpose of helping my body to continue to heal and strenghten inside and out, and how proud I am of that. And lastly I thought about all the important people in my life. Though I write quite openly and honestly about my struggles with body image and self-acceptance, I don’t like to write about those close to me unless it is vital to the post. In this age of our every thought being shared in a split second, I’ve gained a great appreciation for privacy. That said, I will share that I have never felt more accepted and “good enough” just as I am than when I am talking with or spending time with those that are an integral part of my life. I thought about how they would see me if they happened to pass by the gym window, and realized that they would see me, Sara, and be so, so happy and grateful that I was taking care of myself and continuing to grow in health and strength. I knew what I had to do. I cranked up my iTunes’ volume as loud as it would go, focused on the blue sky barely visible through the top portion of that window and did my thing. I’ll say again that it wasn’t easy, but the more I tuned out all the triggers, the more into the music and my workout I became. With about five minutes left in my workout the model watcher left and I promptly jumped down from my elliptical perch and turned that ridiculous show off. Before I resumed I took a minute to acknowledge how wonderful it felt, even through the difficulty, to know that I was not being ruled by my negative self-image. I was appreciating my body, myself, my life. What better time to also acknowledge that all this appreciation was taking place on a beautiful sun filled, summer day in my equally beautiful new home state. I felt some theme music was appropriate and so I finished my run to this awesome little tune. The “workout complete - - great job!” message on that elliptical machine’s tiny screen has never felt better.