An Open Letter to my Body
*Warning: Has the potential to be extremely triggering. Please only read if you feel comfortable in your recovery*
Just a couple weeks ago, we celebrated our 24th anniversary together. Wowee we're old! I’m writing this because I’ve been a pretty shitty partner over those 2 plus decades. I never took the time to thank you for the things you’ve done for me. I took the things you’ve allowed me to do for granted. So hear me out. And most of all, I just want you to know the immense gratitude I have for you.
To my legs:
I’m sorry for thinking you were too big when I tried squeezing you into Hollister and Abercrombie jeans in middle school. I never appreciated how strong you were instead. You’ve taken me on long runs, difficult hikes to see some of the most beautiful parts of the earth that I’ll remember forever, and allowed me to succeed at a sport that has brought me pure joy and some of the best friendships I’ve ever had. You take me around the city, allow me to make a living, and go to school by being my mode of transportation.
Forgive me for looking at you in pure disgust when I saw cellulite on you. You know, when I sat down in shorts, when I walked past a store and saw your reflection in the window, or when I was trying on bathing suits in the Target fitting rooms and that rear mirror showed me a new angle of you I rarely saw. Cellulite is completely normal, and in my case, actually means I now have the fat on my body to support my hormones.
I know I always compared you guys to women with “legs for days,” but you’re proportionate to my body, and have allowed me to do so much, and I thank you for that.
To my stomach:
You know how in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy tells the scarecrow she’ll miss him the most? I feel like I need to apologize you the most. I don’t even know where to start. I’m sorry for never thinking you were flat enough. For pinching/touching/probing/ and staring at you in the mirror wondering why you didn’t look different.
I’m thankful for you. When the 4 month year old I nanny rests easy on my soft stomach comfortably, when I realize I feel no different without abs than when I had them, or when I allow you to extend and take deep, calming belly breaths. I appreciate the pure magic you do through digestion. Instead of getting mad at you for bloating, I’m blown away with what you do to help give my body the energy it needs to survive and do the things I love with vigor.
Oh and don't listen to what I said before. You can rock that crop top. You don't have to skip meals to do so.
To my arms:
Remember when I would just pinch you right under the bicep area and wonder why there was something to grab on to? Yeah sorry about that. You look beautiful in tank tops and sleeveless shirts. Words will never be able to thank you enough for allowing me to participate in sports, and carrying all my shit around on the reg (I am a bag lady lol).
To my breasts, you are fine the way you are, and your size makes me no more or less of a woman. To my calves, thank you for being strong and allowing me to sprint and squat. To my back area that spills over my bra, there’s literally nothing wrong with you, and to be honest, if it weren’t for mirrors, I would have never said those mean things about you.
And when it comes down to it, it was never really about you anyway.
Unfortunately I always made you the issue when it was really about other shit in my head I was dealing with.
But you're just my outer shell and my means of transportation in this thing called life. You protect me, give me energy, and allow me to live comfortably. That's all I can ask for. Looking a certain way on the outside makes me no better a person on the inside.
You don’t need to look like anyone other than who you are now. I am eternally grateful for your strength, health, energy, and everything you’ve allowed me to do and see over these years. I’d be nowhere without you.
Here’s to new beginnings,