Taking Up Space: A Personal Review of Sonya Renee Taylor’s Book, Your Body Is Not An Apology

“Radical self-love is not a destination you are trying to get to; it is who you already are...”

—Sonya Renee Taylor 

I was seven when I first wondered if my thighs were too big. I have a memory of being outside at recess during grade school, sitting on a bench, picking up my thigh, my muscle falling, succumbing to gravity, making my thigh look thinner. 

That was how I wanted my thighs to look. I’d set my leg down, muscles spreading out, and resolve that my thighs were indeed “fat”. I was in the second grade, my mind marinated in my mother’s harsh words about her body, causing me to question the worthiness of my own.

One evening, for an unknown reason, I was on the floor of my grandmother's kitchen, outwardly upset about the size of my thighs. My stepdad, a rough, authoritarian man, reprimanded me so harshly that I felt in trouble more than given compassion or shown curiosity for how I was feeling. Ironically, he was the one who compared my body to the Olsen twins, he was the one who commented on my body when it was changing, and he was the one who touched my body in a way a grown man never should.

(Perhaps this was when I learned to apologize for the existence of my body. Perhaps apologizing for the existence of my body was inevitable because of my brownness and my femininity. Perhaps the seed of body-hatred was planted long, long before.)

My desire to shrink was both to be physically small and to go unnoticed, not taking up physical space. By late adolescence, my eating was incredibly disordered. Meanwhile, family members praised and coveted my thinness. When I wanted to diet to get thin for prom, my mom offered to join in, further underlining in my mind that chasing smallness is a virtue. This message translated into the present way I do or don’t use my voice; communicating from the depth of my nine-year-old self that I “should” be quiet, docile, even-tempered, never loud, never experiencing the range of rage.

According to the cult I was indoctrinated by, how I dressed could cause men to stumble because, somehow, I was responsible for another human's actions and thoughts.

So, reading Sonya Rene Taylor’s book, The Body is Not an Apology, caused me to reflect on these subliminal messages and memories. The intersection of our bodies (race, color, ability, etc.) makes not apologizing for them hard, and still, in the same breath, we must take up space, becoming unapologetic in the way our body looks, how our body feels, our self-expression through what we wear (or don’t), the space our body and mind take up, and the way we move through the world around us.

While one might assume body image is limited to fat, thin, pretty, ugly, it’s also all the other intersections of bodies in general. Brown bodies, able bodies, Black bodies, white bodies. She illustrates this in her analogy of a ladder. 

The ladder represents the idea that some bodies are valued more than others, and individuals are often judged and ranked based on their physical appearance, with those at the top of the ladder considered more desirable and those at the bottom facing discrimination and marginalization. She argues that this ladder is a harmful construct that perpetuates body shame, inequality, and discrimination. Something eye-opening, Taylor explains, is that the ladder isn’t leaning up against systems of oppression; it is the system of oppression. If we don’t participate, the system does not exist.

The entire book is a powerful exploration of the relationship between self-acceptance, body image, and social justice. Taylor, through her beautiful prose, delves into the intersections of body image, race, gender, and disability, highlighting the importance of recognizing and challenging systemic inequalities that perpetuate negative body image. Overall, this book challenged me to look at ways I judge bodies, mine and others, and reminded me that radical self-love is a practice and a returning again and again.

Seven Types of Rest

Learning that we need more than just sleeping rest was a game-changer. Cultivating rest feels more attainable when I have categories of options to choose from or assess what I need. Here are the seven types of rest:

Physical Rest

This is the kind of rest most of us are familiar with, such as getting enough sleep each night or taking naps. These are more passive ways to rest. Active physical rest, on the other hand, includes gentle movement, massage, stretching, or even a sauna session to help your body feel rested and encourage circulation or flexibility.

• Take a movement class like yoga, pilates, or a rest practice

• Go for a walk or hike (get outside if you can)

• Book a self-care day

• Take a nap or simply close your eyes for 5-minutes

• Do a guided non-sleep deep rest guided audio (like this one)

Mental Rest

Our brain is constantly on, processing information, making decisions, and potentially experiencing anxiety or other mental health struggles. Whether at work, home, or school, scheduling short breaks throughout the day can help you slow down. It can also be helpful to journal before bed and write some thoughts about the day before sleep.

• Schedule short breaks from screens

• Have a low stimulation meal (no screens)

• Try to implement no multitasking times

• Unplug for an hour or as long as feels attainable

Sensory Rest

At the end of my classes, when everyone is cleaning up, I always say, “Bright lights incoming!” before turning on the overhead lights. We are all sensitive to sensory inputs such as bright lights and computer/phone screens on some level. I also get over-stimulated when the background music has lyrics my brain is trying to process (mental energy). Sensory rest might look like intentionally unplugging, closing your eyes for a few moments, turning off notifications, or implementing low-sensory times with no screens and maybe even no music.

• Dim the lights or implement candelit times

• Try implementing times of “grayscale” on your phone

• Turn off notifications that you don’t need

Creative Rest

Why do we decorate our spaces? Or love to look out at a view? Because they inspire us! Making space in your life to take in nature’s beauty (even in your backyard), standing in awe at the museum, or engaging with other arts all allow us to be inspired, which, in turn, gives us creative rest. We can’t generate creativity if we don’t have inspiring input.

• Go to a museum or art walk

• Walk in the forest or by the sea

• Read a fiction book or a short story (my recommendations)

• Watch an artsy film

Emotional Rest

The energy to freely express your feelings and cut back on people-pleasing, I know it's a hard one! In Dr. Dalton-Smith’s TED talk, she says that an emotionally rested person can answer the question ‘How are you today?’ with a truthful ‘I’m not okay.’” You might notice this type of rest after being with people or in spaces that encourage your authentic self and limit masking, which also dovetails into the 6th type of rest.

• Cultivate vulnerability

• Journal (pen to paper or voice note!)

• Write a letter to a friend near or far, you can be authentic with

Social Rest

Knowing the difference between relationships that drain us and those that energize us is key to social rest, and this can also look like saying ‘no’ to social invitations, having a night in, or taking yourself out on a solo date.

• Say “no”

• Cultivate JOMO (joy of missing out)

Spiritual Rest

You don’t have to be religious to practice spiritual rest. Spiritual rest is simply giving yourself the space to move beyond the physical and connect to a deep sense of belonging, love, and acceptance. This type of rest might be cultivated through mindfulness, yoga nidra, breathwork, a gratitude practice, self-acceptance, or loving-kindness to self (metta). Another great access point might be through community care, collective song, or getting involved in something bigger than yourself.

• Listen to a guided meditation (here’s one of my favorites)

• Keep a gratitude journal or list on scraps of paper

• Read Tara Brach’s “Radical Compassion”