"Olen tänulik meestele/I'm grateful to men" - Marita Liivak
Marita Liivak
Oil and Acrylic on canvas
100x130cm
My Relationship with My Body
In essence, my longest relationship ever, with its highs and lows. I don't recall thinking much about my body during childhood. The rare occasions when I had to consider it were while hearing adults' comments – so tall, so thin, so blonde... These were factors I became aware of through others' reflections, yet I didn't dwell on them. Running, reading, and playing with a bride's veil made of a curtain were more significant.
The first time I felt insecure about my body was when a female middle-aged relative remarked that my summer dress was too short and not decent to wear because men were watching. I remember the confusion. What do you mean, too short? I like this dress; it's lovely! Since childhood I’d been wearing miniskirts and crop tops without a second thought about what men might think. Now I realize how privileged I was in my naivety, and I am grateful for that.
With the bodily changes during puberty, there was a sudden shift – everything felt different and wrong. Too tall. Too broad shoulders. Too muscular thighs. A fat tummy. Small breasts. The body that had simply... EXISTED... was now unfamiliar. I haven’t fully recovered from that change; the past 20 years have been an ongoing struggle with my body image. I was convinced that at one point, I'd achieve the body of my dreams, meaning a flat tummy. I don't know why this tummy garnered so much hatred. For a long time, it was accompanied by an obsession with the scale reading – if only it could be under 60 kg! Still, I didn’t do much about it. I’ve never been a diet person. I love to eat. It's my greatest joy and pleasure. I work out a lot, so I don't need to make changes in my diet. But I also didn't go to extremes in my training. I am wisely lazy in that sense. So, all I had left were those tricks – apple vinegar water, green tea, nightly poultices with coffee, peeling, massaging, brushing. And criticizing myself. Actually, I should be more grateful to the men I’ve had in my life because, thanks to them, I’ve made peace with my body. Their compliments and admiration gave me the courage to feel comfortable in my body. I convinced myself to believe what they saw in me and forbade myself to have any doubts. This method doesn't work until the very end because when men aren’t around, the doubts return – until the next compliments are heard. And the cycle starts all over.
Somewhere in my late 20s, I realized that I might never have my dream body, and I had spent my whole life despising my beautiful body in its best shape. At one moment, it will start getting older, and I’ve never been happy about it. In the same period, I suddenly started gaining weight, and it didn't stop until I reached 70 kg. And there it sits right now. Strangely, with the gained weight, I didn't lose my self-confidence – although my clothes were too tight, and the sizes were a little frightening, my naked body or my body in underwear was more likable to me than before. I was softer, rounder, more feminine. Where there had just been a hunch, there was now a shape. And of course – breasts. They seem to be the number one thing in a woman's self-confidence. For them, I am willing to sacrifice my flat tummy and smooth thighs!
Where am I with my body at the age of 32? I'd say that sports saved me. I am thankful to my body for its capability, and I don't think too much about external looks. I have accepted some rather crazy challenges and my body hasn't failed me without too much resistance. The last thing I could think of, after a 24-hour bicycle ride, cross-country running, and winter swimming competition is the way I look at the moment. Sweaty, dirty, bruised, snotty... But how strong and mighty! Other issues have risen. Does my body have enough sleep, liquid and nutrition to cope with training and recover? Everything else is less important. So, for me, the way to make peace with my body is to pay attention to what I want to do with it. And to be endlessly grateful for it while it still makes everything possible for me.
Marita Liivak
Oil and Acrylic on canvas
100x130cm
My Relationship with My Body
In essence, my longest relationship ever, with its highs and lows. I don't recall thinking much about my body during childhood. The rare occasions when I had to consider it were while hearing adults' comments – so tall, so thin, so blonde... These were factors I became aware of through others' reflections, yet I didn't dwell on them. Running, reading, and playing with a bride's veil made of a curtain were more significant.
The first time I felt insecure about my body was when a female middle-aged relative remarked that my summer dress was too short and not decent to wear because men were watching. I remember the confusion. What do you mean, too short? I like this dress; it's lovely! Since childhood I’d been wearing miniskirts and crop tops without a second thought about what men might think. Now I realize how privileged I was in my naivety, and I am grateful for that.
With the bodily changes during puberty, there was a sudden shift – everything felt different and wrong. Too tall. Too broad shoulders. Too muscular thighs. A fat tummy. Small breasts. The body that had simply... EXISTED... was now unfamiliar. I haven’t fully recovered from that change; the past 20 years have been an ongoing struggle with my body image. I was convinced that at one point, I'd achieve the body of my dreams, meaning a flat tummy. I don't know why this tummy garnered so much hatred. For a long time, it was accompanied by an obsession with the scale reading – if only it could be under 60 kg! Still, I didn’t do much about it. I’ve never been a diet person. I love to eat. It's my greatest joy and pleasure. I work out a lot, so I don't need to make changes in my diet. But I also didn't go to extremes in my training. I am wisely lazy in that sense. So, all I had left were those tricks – apple vinegar water, green tea, nightly poultices with coffee, peeling, massaging, brushing. And criticizing myself. Actually, I should be more grateful to the men I’ve had in my life because, thanks to them, I’ve made peace with my body. Their compliments and admiration gave me the courage to feel comfortable in my body. I convinced myself to believe what they saw in me and forbade myself to have any doubts. This method doesn't work until the very end because when men aren’t around, the doubts return – until the next compliments are heard. And the cycle starts all over.
Somewhere in my late 20s, I realized that I might never have my dream body, and I had spent my whole life despising my beautiful body in its best shape. At one moment, it will start getting older, and I’ve never been happy about it. In the same period, I suddenly started gaining weight, and it didn't stop until I reached 70 kg. And there it sits right now. Strangely, with the gained weight, I didn't lose my self-confidence – although my clothes were too tight, and the sizes were a little frightening, my naked body or my body in underwear was more likable to me than before. I was softer, rounder, more feminine. Where there had just been a hunch, there was now a shape. And of course – breasts. They seem to be the number one thing in a woman's self-confidence. For them, I am willing to sacrifice my flat tummy and smooth thighs!
Where am I with my body at the age of 32? I'd say that sports saved me. I am thankful to my body for its capability, and I don't think too much about external looks. I have accepted some rather crazy challenges and my body hasn't failed me without too much resistance. The last thing I could think of, after a 24-hour bicycle ride, cross-country running, and winter swimming competition is the way I look at the moment. Sweaty, dirty, bruised, snotty... But how strong and mighty! Other issues have risen. Does my body have enough sleep, liquid and nutrition to cope with training and recover? Everything else is less important. So, for me, the way to make peace with my body is to pay attention to what I want to do with it. And to be endlessly grateful for it while it still makes everything possible for me.
Marita Liivak
Oil and Acrylic on canvas
100x130cm
My Relationship with My Body
In essence, my longest relationship ever, with its highs and lows. I don't recall thinking much about my body during childhood. The rare occasions when I had to consider it were while hearing adults' comments – so tall, so thin, so blonde... These were factors I became aware of through others' reflections, yet I didn't dwell on them. Running, reading, and playing with a bride's veil made of a curtain were more significant.
The first time I felt insecure about my body was when a female middle-aged relative remarked that my summer dress was too short and not decent to wear because men were watching. I remember the confusion. What do you mean, too short? I like this dress; it's lovely! Since childhood I’d been wearing miniskirts and crop tops without a second thought about what men might think. Now I realize how privileged I was in my naivety, and I am grateful for that.
With the bodily changes during puberty, there was a sudden shift – everything felt different and wrong. Too tall. Too broad shoulders. Too muscular thighs. A fat tummy. Small breasts. The body that had simply... EXISTED... was now unfamiliar. I haven’t fully recovered from that change; the past 20 years have been an ongoing struggle with my body image. I was convinced that at one point, I'd achieve the body of my dreams, meaning a flat tummy. I don't know why this tummy garnered so much hatred. For a long time, it was accompanied by an obsession with the scale reading – if only it could be under 60 kg! Still, I didn’t do much about it. I’ve never been a diet person. I love to eat. It's my greatest joy and pleasure. I work out a lot, so I don't need to make changes in my diet. But I also didn't go to extremes in my training. I am wisely lazy in that sense. So, all I had left were those tricks – apple vinegar water, green tea, nightly poultices with coffee, peeling, massaging, brushing. And criticizing myself. Actually, I should be more grateful to the men I’ve had in my life because, thanks to them, I’ve made peace with my body. Their compliments and admiration gave me the courage to feel comfortable in my body. I convinced myself to believe what they saw in me and forbade myself to have any doubts. This method doesn't work until the very end because when men aren’t around, the doubts return – until the next compliments are heard. And the cycle starts all over.
Somewhere in my late 20s, I realized that I might never have my dream body, and I had spent my whole life despising my beautiful body in its best shape. At one moment, it will start getting older, and I’ve never been happy about it. In the same period, I suddenly started gaining weight, and it didn't stop until I reached 70 kg. And there it sits right now. Strangely, with the gained weight, I didn't lose my self-confidence – although my clothes were too tight, and the sizes were a little frightening, my naked body or my body in underwear was more likable to me than before. I was softer, rounder, more feminine. Where there had just been a hunch, there was now a shape. And of course – breasts. They seem to be the number one thing in a woman's self-confidence. For them, I am willing to sacrifice my flat tummy and smooth thighs!
Where am I with my body at the age of 32? I'd say that sports saved me. I am thankful to my body for its capability, and I don't think too much about external looks. I have accepted some rather crazy challenges and my body hasn't failed me without too much resistance. The last thing I could think of, after a 24-hour bicycle ride, cross-country running, and winter swimming competition is the way I look at the moment. Sweaty, dirty, bruised, snotty... But how strong and mighty! Other issues have risen. Does my body have enough sleep, liquid and nutrition to cope with training and recover? Everything else is less important. So, for me, the way to make peace with my body is to pay attention to what I want to do with it. And to be endlessly grateful for it while it still makes everything possible for me.
