Friday, December 12

An Easy Body

You know those women who seem to have all the physical features you envy wrapped up in one glorious, flawless body? I had a name for those women or, more accurately, their bodies. I called them easy bodies. In my comparison addled mind, they were perfect. They had it easy. Please laugh at the absolute absurdity of this and be compassionate with yourself if you still frequent the comparison vortex. We all get pulled in from time to time.
Thankfully, I learned a long time ago that having a certain body type doesn’t mean your life is more or less easy than someone with a different body type. I caught myself thinking she has such an easy body the other day about an acquaintance. And then I chose a thought I’ve never consciously chosen before: I have an easy body, too. Several hours later, I reflected on that thought and realized that an easy body means something totally different to me now. Over this past year, a term I used spitefully and with a tinge of jealousy and self-hatred has turned into a celebration.
What I see when I look at a woman with an easy body is not her actual shape, but rather how she inhabits it.
I see a woman sated by her life.
I see a woman deeply in love with every curve of her complexity.
I see a woman that takes pleasure in the rise of her hungers and relishes the adventure of feeding them.
I see a woman at home in the temple of her bones and blood.
I see a woman unafraid of surrendering.
I see a woman unapologetically honest about her needs, desires, values and boundaries.
I see a woman in passionate pursuit of her own heart.
I see a woman who has unbridled her joy.
I see a woman sure of her strength.
I see a woman creating the poetry of her soul.
I see a woman immensely gentle with herself and the world.
I see a woman set loose.
I see a woman awash in pleasure.
I see a woman awake.
I see a woman who uses her body as a compass.
I see a woman at peace.
I see a woman.
About halfway through that list, I realized I was talking about myself more than anyone. That’s what I see when I look in the mirror. And it doesn’t matter if I’m having a crazy hair day or my jeans won’t button. All of those qualities and freedoms and breathtaking beauty are not contingent on my body type. They’re the outcome of self-love.
What do you see when you look in the mirror? And how does that view color the way you see other women?
Much love,
Hilarie Mae
p.s. thanks for being patient as I transitioned to a full-time Energy Therapist and learned new life rhythm. I can’t wait to hear how your journey is going.

Thursday, May 15

a little introduction

Hey, Loves!

I know it’s been a while. I’ve missed you!
Today I want to introduce the project that’s been getting a ton of my energy and attention recently. It’s called The Raw Boudoir and it’s where my journey to body love, coaching skills, and energy work all come together. After a lifetime of hating my body, I decided to hire a coach and step way outside my comfort zone with 12 boudoir photography sessions (one a month for the whole year). On the blog I share my body love journey and the photos that Chelse, my amazing photographer, takes each month.  

Through The Raw Boudoir I offer two services. The first is private coaching to support your journey to loving your body. I’ve learned that body love is learned. It’s not acquired overnight. It’s practiced. Raw Boudoir coaching focuses on helping you learn to love your body and be proud of it exactly as it is. If coaching seems like too much for you right now but you’d like to change the relationship you have with your body, The Blissful Body Workshop is for you. It’s 30 days of body love support, including daily emails, weekly videos, and access to me if you have questions or need extra support. It's a gentle way to start or enliven body love.

If you're struggling with body image or you just want to know more about the project, contact me!


Monday, March 3

When Horses Talk - No. 4

Often when a horse isn’t handled for a long period of time, they happily remove the memory of human touch from their conscious mind and stow it away in their exceptionally strong memory banks. This one never forgot. He hadn’t been touched by a human for about year. His body arched into my hands, touch hungry. For him, it wasn’t about working on muscles or finding relief from strains or blocked trigger points, it was intentional touch.  My hands weren’t enough. I pressed my whole body against his side. One hand stretched to his shoulder, the other draped over his hip, and my head turned to the side on his bowed back. We stood like that until he felt full, until he looked back at me with gratitude. Intentional touch is how we know we are seen.

Let your horse know they are seen.

Sunday, February 23

Brilliant, Gutsy, Passionate and Purposeful. Just like you.

To all my lady start-ups out there, whether you’re beginning a business with vast resources or just a few close friends that know how amazing your dream is, I believe in you. I’ve started a business alongside friends - brilliant, gutsy, passionate, purposeful women also starting businesses. We’ve worked so hard to bring to our dreams into reality. Sometimes it’s been shitty, and we’ve had meltdowns about money or clients or toilets overflowing. Meltdowns are normal. They break new ground and bring clarity. Don’t resist the meltdown.

Have you ever watched (or been) a surfer heading back out into the ocean, walking or swimming against the waves? The surfers that make it back out the fastest duck under the waves instead of trying to power through them. There is always an easier way. There’s always a third, fourth, or tenth option. Don’t despair. You won’t be overcome by this. Find the way beneath the wave. Find your 10th option. Go haul out your plunger or a call a super handy friend. ASK FOR HELP. People can’t always read your mind. When you need a boost or real concrete help, go get it.

The world would be a much gentler place if we all asked for what we needed, graciously accepted what was offered, and then let our heart (and a hand written note) fill up with gratitude. The whole world is waiting for your dream to blossom and transform us, even in the tiniest way. You are a miracle maker. Get grounded. Wipe those precious tears off your face. Go be your dream.  

Monday, February 10

When Horses Talk - No. 3

Remember those people from college that were always performing? They were theater majors that you could spot a mile away. Maybe you were one of them! Have you ever met a horse like this? One that seems always to be performing and reveling in the attention? How about a horse that is a true theatric at heart, but has no one willing to watch the performance?

I met this gelding early on, when it look me 15 minutes of meditation before I felt centered enough to go into a horse stall and do any good. (Confession: I still have days like that, although they’re less frequent.) He was friendly and danced a little when I approached him. Not in the jittery way that horse dances usually happen, but as an effervescing of excitement.  He nodded and side-stepped, and arched his neck and pawed slowly at the ground. His movements were not the carefully refined calculations of a dressage horse, nor the swift, perfectly timed strides of a show jumper. They were a bit awkward and clumsy, but full of hope and longing. Already he said so much, with the innocence of a child just wanting to be noticed.

I began assessing his body. Running my hands over the contours of his neck and chest. He stamped his foot, full of impatience. He wanted to perform, to move. His body had things to say and those things needed motion in order to surface.  I stopped to think. How could I work on his body and still allow him to feel like he was in motion, performing? Horses’ bodies move the most during a session when I rock and pull, rather than work on smaller, more targeted areas. Perhaps he would appreciate the “bigness” of these techniques. Jackpot. He shivered and shook and rocked as I shifted his pelvis, aligned his tail and spine and loosened his neck. Evidently this was sufficient razzle dazzle for him and he rested, with no prompting from me, on my shoulder for nearly 15 minutes. I walked out of his stall half numb and wholly satisfied.
I could feel him bowing behind me, still caught up in the glamour of show business.