Our bodies are our connection to our world: we experience the world through them and the world experiences us through them. Our bodies are unique; even “identical” twins from the same fertilized egg have differences, though often not obvious.
Our bodies are shaped by many factors, from DNA from the individuals whose DNA we carry, to hormones, prenatal conditions, to the myriad experiences after birth. Some of these differences limit or challenge one’s experience of the world (spina bifida, lack of sight or hearing, for example). Disease, accidents, and violence can also change one’s body shape or features.
My explanation as a toddler for how I got polio was, “I ate dirt.” That experience of polio at age 2 ½ years was life-changing. It shaped, and in some ways limited how I experienced the world. For some people, it limited their experience of me. For instance, I was always the last chosen for kickball in grade school because my running was slower and more awkward than the others.
Being in two hospitals for three months with only hour-long visits from parents once a week was one of the worst parts of the experience.
Having a weak right hip and leg affected the way I walked and made me stand out. In college my nickname was “bouncy.” This feature caught the eye of a young woman who became my life-long friend, partner, companion, and lover for over 50 years. My disability was intriguing to her. Her interest and caring has been a critical source of support as I’ve dealt with the aftereffects of polio and the onset of the “late effects” of polio years later.
Interests and hobbies in childhood changed the focus from disability to ability and capability.
Discovering and eventually affirming my attractions to other males was a challenge we both took on to explore and integrate. This led to our involvement with the LGBTQ community and organizations like Affirmation, RCP and RMN in the United Methodist Church, and PFLAG.
As I have continued to learn about human sexuality and gender, I realized that the term “bisexual” was too binary for me, as, in fact, I found myself attracted to some individuals without even knowing their gender identity.
If our bodies are our connection to the world, how our bodies are perceived by others is important. In many societies, there are rough standards about “attractiveness,” “beauty,” and “desirability.” For folks with visible disabilities or shapes and features which don’t fit these “standards,” finding acceptance, friendship and love can be a big challenge.
Finding places to meet others like oneself is important. However, if a gathering place is not accessible to those in mobility devices like wheelchairs, scooters or walkers, it means this physical means of connecting with others like oneself becomes another isolating experience.
Now, when we get right down to seeing another in a swim suit or without, there is always the common anxiety: How will I be perceived? Will I be affirmed by this other? Will my body be “acceptable”? And if there is a spark of sexual interest, will it still be there after the other sees my body?
Of course body image is not only an issue for individuals who experience disability or find themselves LGBTQIA+: I suspect we all could use exercises which enhance our own body image, to be able to look at ourselves through the loving eyes of the Creator who made each of us, who created us, and is still creating us.
Our bodies can be the embodiment of love, through which we can express and receive caring, attentiveness, and loving.
Ultimately and ideally, we can transcend the forms, the shapes, and the limits of our physical bodies and truly meet each other as the spiritual, embodied human beings we are, who can embody holy love with each other.
-- Ben Roe, May, 2021