I have talked honestly about the fact that I don’t feel embodied and some of the reasons this is so.
I don’t know to what extent this is the case for all women (or persons) and what their reasons are. I only know my own experience.
Do I separate my mind from my body as a way to feel safer from the threats, catcalls and leers I experience moving through the world? Maybe.
Do I do so in part because I was not a traditionally attractive kid and lived in my own head most of the time? Maybe.
I’m actually less interested in the causes than the implications. The eating disorder I struggled with for several years a decade ago (and am lucky to still be in recovery from) points to an integration that still needs work.
So too does a phobia I developed suddenly in my pre-teens. I know how to swim but after the loss of a friend in a drowning accident when I was thirteen I can’t swim. It’s all in my head, as they say, but I have quite enough in there already and after 20 years I would like to swim again. There are few things I enjoy more than time at the beach. It is time to once again go into the water over my head (after all, I’m only 5’2″ – that isn’t very far).
Every morning I start my day by doing the three things on my to-do list that I least want to do so I don’t talk myself out of them. This morning the first thing I did was enroll in adult swim classes (nonrefundable, of course) to get over this swimming hurdle
Will it help towards integration as I hope it will? Maybe. It can’t hurt. I do know that doing something that scares me is definitely good for me and that growth happens on its own time. But for it to happen at all I have to start somewhere. And I’m the type that likes to jump in.