Body Journey
How many of you have struggled with a relationship with your body? I would be willing to guess almost all of you would say YES. I have had a long battle with my body image, self-worth, and confidence. One thing that helped me is to start thanking my body, instead of speaking negatively to it. To work out the bits I liked, rather than loathed. As my body will change & fluctuate throughout our journey together, so will my perceptions. I truly feel that, taking the time to remind myself of the journey we have been through together. I hope this letter helps you to see your own body for the beautiful, wonderful vessel of life that it is. Treat it well - your mind and spirit will thank you as well.
Dear Body,
Firstly, You should know that I desperately loathe this letter as much as I love it. This journey has been hard work, but I want you to know a few things about the way I feel. Things that have been left unsaid, that finally need addressing today. I have to start with one thing;
I am sorry.
I am sorry for the times I have hated you. The times I have been disgusted by you or called you terrible names. The times I have pinched at you, cried over you and squeezed into clothes that left you feeling in pain. The red marks, indents or bruises that I left carelessly on your skin, ignoring the hurt I had caused. I am so very sorry.
It was my perception that was broken. Not you.
I have spent my life comparing you up against a beauty standard that does not exist. Wishing for you to change, to become anything else, far from who I am. I am trying to change my mindset, I really, really am. Some days it is so hard, but I promise you I am trying.
I know how good you are to me. I mean it! You work around the clock! Heart beating, lungs breathing and taking me all the places I need to go. You take on the wear and tear I put on you, juggling the daily strains of life. You endure long drives, cramped and crooked to rough it overnight in a tent so I can wake up to the most beautiful sunrises. You have carried me through the long nights that turned into early mornings. Whether it be indulging with friends, or what at the time seemed like endless hours in the dark swaying from side to side, comforting small children. Not forgetting the continuous body-coaster of the night shifts - just to be able to muddle through to hopefully stretch you out enough for everyone to have a piece of you - often forgetting your own pain or needs. Somehow, (and sometimes, I myself don't even know how) You rejuvenate enough so I can wake up and take on a new day. Time & time again.
I paint you, scrape you, scrub, trim, scrutinise and pluck you. I often hit you against every corner of my home (I'm sorry I am so very clumsy!) My mind and own anxiety cause you to react. To feel things and put you on edge, forcing you into survival mode. We've been on survival mode so long, that I savour the mornings where I wake and you have taken the time to recover. Even if my mind has not got there quite yet. I am coming to realise you are more than just a machine.
I want you to know, I love the story you tell.
The scar on your arm from falling from a horse as a girl shows me that together we have been brave and taken chances. The silver lines that trace over you depict maps from where you carried my children. A testament to your power. You endured the months of exhaustion and taking extra care of the precious cargo you carried. The strength showed, despite the pain you suffered for their safe arrival - For this, I will be forever grateful.
There are so many parts that I used to hate, but I am learning to love. I smile wide because I am learning that your differences are not imperfections, but the very thing that makes you mine.
You're soft and curved, full of life and show traits of a life lived well. This is all I ever want from you. To help me live my life well. To grant me the privilege of growing old with grace. I know that if I look after you, you will look after me in return.
You have carried me well, through every stage of my life. And we will keep on experiencing this beautiful world together, living full and imperfect. Loving deep until we feel it in our whole self. Our thighs may always rub and our belly may jiggle when we laugh - but this means we have plenty and have found joy.
Our Hair may begin to gray and wrinkles may carve paths over my skin in the years to come, but they will be full of memories. The beauty and tragedy. Sorrow and hope of a life lived.
You may just be a vessel, but you are my vessel. The first step of taking care of you is loving you.
I am so very grateful for you and promise from now to love you fully. Just as you are.
Love
Me
X
I hope this helped.
I hope this was as healing for you as it was for me. I encourage you to take the time to contemplate everything in your own journey. How has your body carried you through? Remind yourself of times your body has shown up for you, shown resilience and strength. Where has your body taken you? Or, how has it kept you safe?
The first step of learning to love yourself is to start having these conversations. Be the change, not only for yourself, but for any of those little people looking up to you. Practice on ourselves what we preach to our children. Let's learn how to evolve through each stage of our life with a little bit of love. One step at a time.
If you choose to write your own letter, or felt better from reading this - please let me know!
