Body Image Trolls

Trolls. Seriously?

Well, obviously, I don’t mean real trolls. The only real trolls live in Iceland and, from what I understand, are not much into pole dancing. I mean body image trolls. You know, the ones that live in your head and jump out at you when you least expect it.

Tummy Trolls

I live with a few different trolls – tummy trolls, hip trolls, and – more and more – hair color trolls. Generally, we all live together peacefully, but in low moments they come out to graze. This weekend, my tummy troll woke up early Saturday morning and decided that the best way for me to give a belly dance workshop was if I suddenly felt as if my mid-section were one freakishly shapeless blob.

Now, I’m not sure why tummy trolls feel this is a useful perspective, but they do. Perhaps they see their role as giving us ample opportunity to dive ever deeper into our emotional baggage, hoping we’ll whittle it down to the size of a tiny lipstick clutch.

Whatever their reasoning, my response is usually the same:

First, I wonder what could have happened.

I was so beautiful the last time I checked. Whatever could have changed?

Then, I blame the lighting.

This works well since the lighting in my condo is especially flattering on my tummy. Well, unless I’m videoing, in which case the lighting morphs me into something bizarre and bulbous – but that may just be my troll talking again.

Next, I progress to obstinance.

Nonsense, I tell myself and my troll. I am beautiful. Glorious. Shapely and deliciously feminine. Men find my tummy particularly inviting.

These are true facts and should flatten any argument the troll may have. But they don’t. Instead, I weaken.

Have I gotten out of shape? Has middle-aged spread finally descended upon me? Have I been walking through life this unattractive all along and didn’t even know it?

A Language They Understand

Eventually, I realize I am spiraling down into a quagmire of low self-esteem and mental self-flagellation. I have tried to talk sense to my troll, but words are no use against them. They live nestled inside the deep recesses of our hearts and must be spoken to with feeling and passion, in a language they can truly understand. There was only one thing I could do.

I danced.

I belly danced. I pole danced. I stretched and spinned and inverted. I breathed deeply into my tummy and felt my muscles extend as I leaned into each move.

Confidence Restored

The troll understood, at last. He withdrew to his nesting grounds and left me to enjoy my day. My tummy was beautiful again. And I knew it.

Do you have body image trolls? What are your experiences with these persistent little creatures? Have you ever danced them away?

Tags: Body Image, Pole Dancers, Pole Dancing

June 1, 2009 - Posted by PoleSkivvies No Comments
Filed under: Confidence Boosts