Answers to Questions Regarding Yoga and Body Image

As I was saying yesterday, "Anonymous" posed some interesting questions that I would like to try to answer, regarding yoga and body image.

Like Anonymous, I agree that yoga is a body positive excersise that teaches us to appreciate whatever body it is that we have, big or small, old or young. I would take it a step further and say that yoga can even teach us to appreaciate a body that has failed us in some way or another, through injury or illness.

But that is not to say that if our body fails us by getting injured or ill, that we should simply accept it and do nothing about it. If one tears their knee cartilage, should they accept that? Or should they have surgery to repair it and hopefully go on with whatever it was they were doing before? Likewise, if our body becomes ill, we aren't going to accept that without a fight, and sometimes the fight leads to disfigurement. Sometimes that disfigurement can be accepted, but sometimes it need not be.

In my case, when diagnosed with breast cancer, I began a battle against my body. "Cut them off!" was my first battle cry, as coldly as the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland, screaming at her henchmen to "cut off their heads!" Then it was "blast that mother-f-cker with all the chemo you've got." Then radiation burned it all to the ground. And if that wasn't enough, I went to war with the hormones in my body, removing my ovaries, eliminating the source of estrogen, which had been feeding my tumors. I was left physically scarred, which was pretty much unavoidable, and emotionally scarred, which was pretty much unavoidable too...except there was something I could do to help myself feel better....and that was yoga. I discovered yoga as a daily practice (as opposed to an occasional stretch) because nothing that I had done to stay fit before the breast cancer felt right anymore. I was desperate for something that would allow me to move my body that wouldn't leave me feeling MORE angry and MORE stressed out (unlike, say, running, or kick-boxing, which left me feeling agitated).

I went to a Bikram yoga class on the suggestion of my sister-in-law and yoga-accomplice, Jill. At Bikram there were mirrors, which was often terribly painful for me. It forced me to confront my hairless head, to have to look at my bloated body and to sit still with myself for 90 minutes. But what happened during those 90 minutes of "moving meditation" was that I began to regard my body as something other than a mortal enemy, something that had betrayed me and mocked me in the mirror. I began to regard my body as amazingly functional. I began to gravitate toward the postures that I found the most difficult because those presented me with the chance to focus on my body as a working machine, a tool for focus.

But that can't be the entire picture, right?...because I did have plastic surgery, which would seem to indicate some basic lack of acceptance of my body as it is. The thing is, it may not be so clear-cut as all that. At the time of my double-mastectomy, I was encouraged to have reconstructive surgery - my very first plastic surgery. I was told that studies indicated that women who had reconstructive surgery tend to do better mentally AND physically than women who don't. That made sense to me, and in any even, I never for one second considered having my breasts removed without replacing them with new ones.

But once you go down that first step toward remaking yourself physically, you start to realize that you are on a slippery slope. Reconstruction is not a one-shot deal. In many cases it involves a tummy-tuck, for example, as a source of new breast tissue. In my case, my tummy did not have enough fat to create even one breast, let alone two, so I opted for tear-drop-shaped saline implants (silicone was not an option back then - three years ago this month) that would be gradually inflated with saline over a period of months. What that meant was repeat trips to Dr. Ascherman to add more saline, and then when I grew unhappy with having these large fake breasts, to remove saline. And it meant scar revision, to eliminate excess flaps of skin at the scarline. And a couple of other surgeries that I am not entirely comfortable describing here right now. But trust me, my plastic surgeon became a near constant companion in the years following my breast cancer diagnosis, whether I wanted him to or not.

And then the slippery slope began to call out to me. My treatments for breast cancer had left me with excess fat around my middle. Why shouldn't my "reconstruction" address that as well? How was this any different from getting surgery for torn cartilage, I thought to myself.

It was an easy choice to opt for liposuction, and that is what I did. The only problem was that my treatments for breast cancer had also left me in menopause, which meant that the collagen in my skin was deteriorating on a rapid basis, leading to a lack of elasticity in my skin and a general trend toward sagging - especially in places that had been stretched out in the past (like my abdomen, from two pregnancies). So, a year after my liposuction, my belly was fairly skinny. But the skin hung away from the muscles like the folds of an accordian. And I felt like I had the body of a 90-year old woman instead of the body of a thirty-something woman.

Why should I have to deal with that? I know that I could have "accepted" it. I know that yoga helped me to live with it as long as I did. But when I knew that there were options - options that I ironically could have taken at the outset (tummy tuck) had I been in WORSE physical shape than I was when I was diagnosed - I realized that making that next step - having the excess skin removed, having my ripped-apart stomach muscles repaired - it simply wasn't the huge step that one who was not in my shoes might have felt that it was.

Anonymous posed the question "Why did you give into societal pressures that force women to think they have to have the bodies of 20 yearold fashion models?" My answer is that I wasn't giving into societal pressures at all. I was simply trying to get back to where I was before I was diagnosed with cancer. It is one thing to accept an aging body. It is another thing to ask myself to accept that ILLNESS has caused my belly to age prematurely and that I have to live with it when really, I didn't have to live with it at all!

Anonymous also pointed out that "Most women are naturally curvy anyway and dont have flat stomachs." Agreed. In my case, menopause had taken AWAY my natural curves - padding out the areas around my waist and wittling down my hips. My surgery gave me back a more curvy appearance, like a woman of my own age.

Anonymous asked:"Why would you subject yourself to such a painful surgery that u really didnt need?" Because it isn't painful to me - it is NOTHING compared to the other stuff I have been through, physically and emotionally. So, the question actually presumes a fact that isn't true - it wasn't really a painful surgery at all, relatively speaking. It was just par for the course in getting back to where I was before I got diagnosed with a disgusting disease. Just like getting cartilage repaired is par for the course in coming back to running or skiing, etc.

Anonymous also said "Personally it just seems so contrary to what i thought yoga is supposed to be about. I just don't get it. It would be upsetting to me to have a yoga teacher that would go under the knife to change something that i thought can be changed with a steady yoga practice, or am i just fooling myself? (Is this a common yoga teacher practice?Also aren't you worried about the post op problems one can have from having such a procedure?) If i was your student i personally would feel kind of duped.."

The thing is....no amount of steady yoga practice could have repaired my damaged stomach muscles or brought collagen back to my skin to eliminate sagging around my middle. A steady yoga practice like mine only served to highlight the problems. The more fit my muscles got, the more saggy my skin appeared. I realize that there are students of mine who might be upset by my willingness to undergo plastic surgery. But those students are probably the same students who would tend to be upset about my having had breast cancer and not come to my classes as a result. The two are inextricably intertwined. I know in my heart that there are students who are uncomfortable with what I represent - a young woman who was fit and healthy and still got a dreadful disease. I know that there are students who are SUPER-comfortable with me for exactly the same reason. I can't please everyone. But I can be honest and hope that I can reach someone, from exactly the vantage point of who I am and what I believe.

I hope I answered your questions....

YC