Body Loyalty

You are a human.

You are a human.

That doesn’t seem like it should be controversial, does it? Is anyone out here disputing that we’re something else? I don’t hear that argument, but I certainly see it.

Every time a workplace doesn’t account for the ways we need rest, bathroom breaks, meals, leisure, it is sending a message that we are not humans, we are just tools. Every time marketing copy insists that the shape of our bodies are a sign of our will, every time a message implies that ability is a measure of character, that needing rest is laziness, or that the measure of our worth lies in the labor we perform, that message is dehumanizing us.

Throughout the history of medicine, a lot of different metaphors have been used to try and conceptualize how the brain and body work. But the thing is, those metaphors were never accurate. Often they weren’t even accurate for the science of the time, but they certainly are not accurate today. During industrialization a lot of medical information spoke of the body like a machine. You still see this when we talk about calories as fuel. So a body that breaks down with sickness or injury is treated like a failure. Like a machine that broke down would be. Not a human.

Once the computer age arrived alongside advancements in brain science, those medical metaphors took on the language of tech. The brain as the computer for our body. Which is, again, dehumanizing. A computer with a slow processing speed might be a bad computer, but a human brain with a slow processing speed is not a bad brain. It’s just another way humans regularly appear.

In American late stage capitalism we are rewarded for working ourselves right up to burn out, and then punished for burning out. Like a coal mine that is abandoned once all the value has been extracted from it.

But we are not coal mines, we are not machines, and we are not even computers. Using those metaphors to try and understand ourselves has taught us to ignore and feel shame about our needs in a way that benefits those who want to exploit people.

You are a human. And humans need rest. No human deserves to be shamed for needing rest, kept from getting rest, or treated like the rest they need says anything about the kind of person they are.

Humans need food. No human deserves to be shamed for eating the food accessible to them. Needing, even liking, food is not a failure as a human, because that is how we were designed.

All these dehumanizing systems we’re a part of, the dehumanizing messages we are fed in our media, the dehumanizing treatment we receive from people invested in the status quo, all of that can try and make us deny our humanity, but it can’t erase it. One urgent bathroom trip is all you need to remember that you are a human with body needs.

There’s big social and political implications to what I’m talking about, but let’s focus on the individual implications. What would change for you if you started treating yourself with the knowledge that you are a human?

Some of us get stuck on the “well, that’s fine for everybody else, but not for me because I am uniquely shameful/fucked up/a failure/etc.” thought. There’s an ugly internal gremlin telling us that if people really KNEW us the way WE knew us, they would agree with that assessment.

Here’s my trick to get around that resistance: Pretend your body is somebody else.

Give your body a name, and treat it like it is a person. Those of us who are convinced healing is inaccessible would never treat anyone else the way we treat ourselves. So by pretending my body is someone else, I started treating it like I would treat someone else. Until I was much much further along in my trauma healing I wouldn’t be able to have that respect for myself, but I could at least treat my body with dignity.

I still experienced a ton of mental resistance to this idea because I had good reason to be mad at my body. I’m not nice to people who hurt me, and my body hurts me all the time! But my many years of caregiving has taught me how to be kind to a person even when they are driving me crazy in the moment. Those relationships are based on loyalty, so in those moments of intensity when things suck and I want to scream, it’s loyalty that keeps me being a good parent, caregiver, spouse, etc. I grit my teeth and roll my eyes and stick it out. So I need a framework that will let me do that with my body.

I think it’s caregiving relationships that provide that framework, so I personified my body with that relationship in mind. My body is a pet horse. She’s a retired racehorse and after too many years racing now she won’t do a single thing that isn’t her idea and I have to get on board or deal with the consequences.

Maybe your body isn’t an animal you take care of. Maybe you have beloved elders in your family and so your body is an elder you take care of. Maybe you’ve always loved children so your body is a preschooler you have to corral. Maybe your body is a garden you tend.

A garden does not have to be a “good” garden to be fruitful. An animal does not have to be “good” to deserve dignity. A toddler does not have to be “good” to deserve safety and love. And your body does not have to be “good” to make you a human being worthy of care.

You are a human. And any voice that tells you human needs are shameful is a voice you need to challenge. Especially when that voice is your own. If you start treating yourself with loyalty, you can show that voice the truth. Shame gets us nowhere, but taking care of ourselves with dignity and loyalty will get us where we’re trying to go.