A new environment

I sat in my favourite cafe, facing outwardly at the street. The front of the cafe was in the sidewalk, and it gave me a strong sense of community. People would walk by and through you, say hello, and keep walking. I smiled at passers-through pleasantly, and then out of nowhere, it happened — my jaw dropped as a gazelle sat at the table next to me. You know, a model. I sipped my coffee slowly, discreetly glancing over at her to my right. I cringed.

She looked like a living, breathing, photoshopped image. I’d seen my fair share of women with plastic surgery — lip injections, nose jobs, breast implants, and the like, and Bali was full of them — but I couldn’t tell if she was real or not, if she was just born this way.

She was one of the women you’re left puzzled by. Too beautiful to be real, too natural to be fake. So which one was it? Either way, I shrunk in my seat.

Over the years, I’ve come to understand that there can be an empowering context to getting plastic surgery. In fact, I’m seen some women frame it in really inspiring ways. But as a woman who grew up surrounded with societal messages that my looks dictated my worth, I often struggle to peacefully exist next to the gazelles. Each time I encountered one, it felt like my body image had taken a bullet.

But also, as a woman who has spent the last ten years steeped in personal development of every flavor, I have become increasingly curious about how to evolve past this feeling, and ultimately find a deeper sense of self-love. This has remained to be one of the more difficult growth edges for me. I have achieved inner peace in so many ways, but this one is persistent. And even when I reach a new level of self love, life shows me more places I haven’t achieved it.

And then I moved to the mecca of models, the hell of my growth edge. Bali.

I’m not a bad person

To set the record straight, I am a huge fan of unconditional self-love. I have worked with countless women on the art of self love, which has included loving their bodies. And yet, in this new place, surrounded by models in every direction I look, it has been a whole new level of confronting that I’ve never been exposed to before.

I found myself trying to find flaws in the gazelles. I noticed my mind going to meaner, darker places — and this was when I realized just how badly I needed to grow past it. Judging women, my fellow sisters, is never the answer. No matter how perfectly photoshopped they look, and no matter how small I feel in their presence, judgment is never the answer.

So, this was the task: how do I love myself, and love them, simultaneously? How do I acknowledge their beauty and remember my own?

And then, it hit me. I was feeding into the very programming that I despise. I was objectifying these women. I was forgetting to look past their appearance, forgetting to see the sister underneath. When I looked at them, all I saw was their outer beauty — I wasn’t getting at all curious about who they were as human beings.

This moment humbled me. Society often points their fingers at men for upholding the patriarchy, but we seldom look at how women do it.

The three steps

I then realized that there were three components to finding the new level of bulletproof self-love that I was after:

1. Learning how to love these women as sisters.
2. Undoing my own conditioning to objectify myself and others.
3. Remembering my true definition of beauty: the embodiment of love.

As soon as I distinguished these three steps, the path to self-love suddenly became undeniably clear. There was a yellow brick road to inner peace.

I began to practice viewing all women as my sisters. When I noticed a model walk by, instead of noticing only her looks, I would ask myself: “What struggles might she be going through? Where might this woman and I be similar?”

I also began to notice just how pervasive the thoughts were of my own worth being based on looks. This messaging is everywhere; no matter how often I dropped this story, a new set of messages would reinforce it instantly. I had to learn to keep a strong daily practice of noting where I truly derive my worth from. I reminded myself of my intelligence, my humility, my depth, my openness, my love, and my courage. And then, I began to see these traits in others more than ever before.

I also noticed the people that seemed to lack these traits; this resulted in me relating to beautiful people like this in a very different light. I wondered how rich their life really was. And even then, I could still come back to the question: “What struggles might she be going through?” and perhaps the answer would be that they never had a chance to form some important traits for a fulfilling life.

While creating a daily practice of checking in with my true worth, I also created a daily practice of the thing I find most beautiful: embodying love.

When someone embodies love, it is captivating to me. What’s incredible about it is that it is an embodiment, not a physical feature. It comes from within. It moves the body with an inner radiance and generosity.

When I can tell that someone has ease, humility, and spaciousness for themselves and others; that they gift their love with a detached yet full heart; that their physical body moves in the form of love itself, that is true beauty to me. And then I remembered: this is my natural state. So, I began an even more devout practice to embodying love. In this practice, I felt beautiful. The kind of beautiful that actually matters to me.

This practice of embodying love evolved into something magical. Every time I looked in the mirror, what I started to see was a body that embodied love. My body, in whatever shape it was that day, was love. I knew this to be my true identity, and it was more permanent than any visible trait I had. Whether I was feeling strong, bloated, dolled up, or unmasked, I was always love.

It occurred to me that the thing I found most beautiful of all was something I possessed permanently. Each day that I leaned into the practice of honouring my true nature, each moment that I devoted my day to the walking, living meditation of embodying love, I was beautiful.

Nothing, and no one, can take my love away.

And thus, I became bulletproof.

So, if you’re a fellow sister on the journey to a bulletproof body image, my invitation to you is that you try on the three steps outlined in this article. If you feel so inclined, drop a comment below with your own experience.

I wish you a life where you’re all the love you’ll ever need.