What a Prick! 

  • By Sheila Gallagher Paluzzi MSW, RSW
  • 29 Jan, 2019

Painful, beautiful life

In the photo above, I was captured in a perceptibly solid headstand at the base of the Flatiron mountain range in Colorado. I was pretty proud of this moment, as I had been practicing my headstand in yoga class for a few months and was excited to use it for a social media post.  Like most photos though, there is much more than meets the eye. The stories behind some photos are often much more complicated than the perfectly captured still shot. 

So, instead of sharing this photo as a 'final product' for a social media post,  I will share the whole picture, so to speak. To begin, it took about six somewhat comical tries to finally hold my headstand steady. Then, ten seconds (possibly two) after this photo was captured, I had a less than elegant fall from grace. I landed flat on my back with a thud.   When I finally got my wits about me and air back into my lungs, it felt as though my entire backside was on fire!  It was as though I was being stung by dozens of bees, all at the same time! What in the holy hell?!!  To my dismay, there were some low lying cacti in the brush directly below me.  The tiny little spines embedded themselves right through my clothing and into my skin. Every move I made, only intensified the discomfort! Dear goodness . . .  make it stop!!  In a moment of pure brilliance I thought, maybe if I close my eyes, it will all go away! *peeks open one eye*. Nope, still hurts! Ok, moving on to plan "B".  It was time to take a deep breath and stand up! You got this Sheila! And I did. It was about as graceful and comfortable as the fall, but I was on my feet! 

As I awkwardly hobbled back to my friends, I tried to play it cool. I didn't want to be over dramatic about it all, so as casually as I could, said "I think I may have landed on something when I fell." My friends spun me around and began to  examine my back. I heard them gasp (and possibly utter a few curse words) as they shared the diagnosis; "Your back is covered in cactus pricks!" They began to kindly remove them from my clothing until they realized they were also stuck in my skin. What a pain in the ass! Seriously. 

Following an awkward and uncomfortable amble back to our cottage, I was sprawled out on the living room floor as my dear friend meticulously removed each tiny spine from my flesh. Now, I've had to deal with a few pricks in my day, but these were by far the most painful! Both of my friends were so caring and compassionate about it all. I was genuinely grateful for their help. The best part though, the laughter! I laughed until my sides hurt more than my wounds. 

What is the point to all of this? Well, the other day I was looking at this photo and it struck me. The whole story behind this photo can be a metaphor for life:
After a lot of work and effort, we experience these amazing moments of triumph and joy. Then, we have painful experiences that sometimes flatten us on our backs, and take our breath away. When we are ready, we rise to face the world once again. If we are really blessed, our loved ones will be there to support us through the pain, love us in our most vulnerable moments, and maybe even help us find humour in some situations.
   
Life is an awfully and painfully beautiful experience.We can not always predict what lies ahead of us (or beneath!)So, let's celebrate every little triumph, breathe through the pain, tend compassionately to our wounds, accept support from our loved ones, and laugh our asses off any opportunity we can!


By Sheila Paluzzi MSW, RSW 21 Mar, 2021
A season for letting go and creating space.
By Sheila Gallagher Paluzzi MSW, RSW 04 Feb, 2021
How do we keep our 'happiness' bucket full?
By Sheila Gallagher Paluzzi MSW, RSW 23 Jan, 2021
Life changing moments, when you expect them the least.
By Sheila Gallagher Paluzzi MSW, RSW 10 Jan, 2021
For decades I turned my volume down, to try and dance to music that did not belong to me.
By Sheila Gallagher Paluzzi MSW, RSW 21 Jan, 2019

We all know the rules, right ladies? What is the ‘f’ word we cringe to more vehemently than the four letter one? That’s right: fat . No, I did not make a typo in the title (but I imagine I got your attention). . . FOR FAT SAKE! I detest what this word has come to represent. It is a comparative, degrading, diminishing word that most of us have spent our lives avoiding any association with. As a woman, being called fat has meant: undesirable, unwanted, unlovable, UNWORTHY. This blog is my warrior cry to invite everyone to come back to, and love ourselves just as we are . A call to shed the layers of social conditioning and negative beliefs, to begin to deeply love our bodies and connect to our personal power.

I entered this world in record time and weighed in at 10 lbs. 4 oz and 22 inches long! Seriously!? To my phenomenal mother’s dismay, she naturally and painfully birthed a toddler!  In a society that values a woman by her size, I was a rule breaker by mere existence. Not to mention, as I grew older, my personality began to match my body; BIG!! Big heart, big feelings, big voice, big dreams. In the early years, I was oblivious to the social norms I was breaking and loved living large in every way! I would sing, dance, run around unabashedly in a bathing suit, and take up as much space as I desired. It was quite beautiful.

At approximately age eight, I was called to downsize, in every way. This was when the fat shaming began and I started to learn the hard knocks of life; girls should remain small in every way. Our bodies, our voices, our personalities. Be nice and do NOT take up too much space (figuratively and literally). My exuberance deflated from my enormous personality.  I was painfully aware that I did not naturally ascribe to the rules of being a girl. So, for years, I worked hard to learn and follow those rules. Be nice. Be small. Be pretty. I have tortured and abused my body, mind and soul in attempts to follow these rules. I have tried numbing, stuffing, starving, medicating, placating,  you name it. I worked hard to hide who I  was in order to chase the acceptance and approval of others. I realize now, this was an impossible and painful aspiration to chase. 

In all my years of being a woman, friend,  and therapist, I have come to learn that most women have a shame story about their bodies and have experienced feeling unworthy. If you are one of them, this goes out to you: I see you, I hear you, I AM you.   I recognize we all have our unique stories and I honour whatever yours is. I know the familiar feeling of "not good enough" is what bonds us together. We can support one another through the shame and rise together to reclaim our power! 

It has taken years for me to slowly peel away the layers of teasing, humiliation, rejection, conditioning, shame, rage, and lies. At times, I have felt so raw and exposed I feared there would be nothing left to me. She was in there though, awaiting my return. The passionate, precious, wild, beautiful little girl who loves big, dreams big, and walks with her head held high. Every day, I try to connect with her and nurture her so that she can live out loud in every way. It doesn't always go according to plan, but I am not giving up on her. 

Body love is a personal journey without a defined prescription. It is a journey I will likely be on for many more years but I invite it all. The pain, the beauty, all of it. Every day is an invitation to return to and love our bodies. So, I invite you to show yourself some body love, right now, in this moment. Ask yourself What is the most loving thing I can do for my body right now ”? Let your intuitive response, be your guide. Does your body need rest? nourishment? movement? water? touch? nurturing? compliments? There is no "right" answer, only what feels right for you. Once you have your response ask "What is one thing I can do today to meet my need for _________________   ?" (enter whatever your response was to the first question). Now, try to meet that need today as an act of body love and self compassion. 

Whenever you feel overwhelmed by the internal and external messages that tell you, you are not worthy, anchor yourself by asking those questions. Ask them over and over again until they become your default. Let them be your compass as you peel back your own layers to reveal (and feel) how truly beautiful and worthy you are!


The photo is of my brother, my aunt , and myself 'living large'! She struggled most of her life with body image issues but accepted ME just as I am.  You will forever be in my heart, and one of my guiding lights. 

By Sheila Gallagher Paluzzi MSW, RSW 14 Jan, 2019

Like some of you, I was intimidated by yoga. The outfits, the poses, the false notion that it was this exclusive club that only those with the quintessential, lithe ‘yoga body’ could belong to. A club that because of my body type, I could NEVER belong to. So, for years, it was a practice I avoided with great effort and success.

During my twenties, I decided to take a giant leap out of my comfort zone and attend a hot yoga class. For those of you who are not familiar, it is a yoga class facilitated in a studio with the temperature cranked to approximately 92 degrees. I mean seriously, I was sweating before the instructor even introduced herself!  It. Was. Torture. Not because of the poses, or the instructor, but because I could not escape from my thoughts. From the moment I walked into that studio, I was already comparing myself to others and highlighting (with great detail) my physical flaws. I was envious of the coordinating yoga outfits as I looked down at my Paper Bag Princess version, and incredibly self-conscious that others were thinking “this woman is clearly in the wrong class”. The entire hour was uncomfortable and my self-conscious thoughts only seemed to amplify and intensify with each movement. Dear God, what if I fart in downward dog and the smell is trapped in this hot sweaty room with all these beautiful (and thin) women!? Surely they would know it was the giant, awkward, new girl! There was no enlightenment, or ‘flow’. It was sixty minutes spent drowning in a sea of my own sweat and self-loathing. When the chimes resonated to indicate the end of class, they also chimed my freedom from the hot hell I was trapped within. I was a  hot mess .  

I was so fearful to return to the mat after my  experience that when I did get the courage to give yoga another chance (10 years and a whole lot of personal work later!), I booked private classes in hopes to avoid the fear and hot messy shame from before.

It has been a few months since I began practicing yoga regularly, and it has been an empowering and painful (emotional more than physical) experience that I would recommend to anyone. Through yoga, I learned how disconnected I had become from my own body (enter extensive memoir on the reasons why) and how to slowly return to myself through breath, intention and movement.  Thankfully my instructor was patient, compassionate and respectful of my insecurities and created a beautiful space for me to begin the process of reconnecting to, and loving my body.

Here is what I have learned (and wish someone would have shared with me prior to my sweaty shame bath) about the practice of yoga; It is NOT about your clothes, your size, your shape, or whether you can contort your body like a Cirque Du Soleil performer. There is NO exclusive club, YOU belong .

Yoga can be a powerful and personal journey back to yourself. There will be moments of peace, joy, and relaxation and there will be moments of fear, struggle and frustration. It is all a part of the process. If you have become detached from your body, your emotions, or your thoughts, yoga can be the gentle friend to guide you back home.  It is a personal practice where YOU get to choose what benefits to gain. It can be deeply healing for your mind, body and soul, or it can be one hour where you can escape daily stresses and lie down for five uninterrupted minutes during Shavasana.

 If you are contemplating stepping out of your comfort zone, or had a hot messy experience like myself and want to try again, remember this: YOU belong and you are brave for just showing up in the face of your fears.  If needed, you can find solace in knowing there is at least one other person in the class trying to keep their s&*t together, or possibly holding in a fart. Namaste ;-) 

Share by: