*This is a post I started quite a long while ago, when I saw some link-up of women writing love letters to their bodies. I thought it would be freeing to write, despite how I missed the bandwagon to the original synchroblog. Here it is, badly written and all - but honest.
Dear Body,
Let's start with a little honesty.
We've had our ups and downs.
And I've made my feelings clear in many instances.
I despise your form as seen through the camera's eyes.
Each angle stilled with the click of the shutter provokes
my disgust, my disappointment, my shame.
And yet, sometimes I am vain as I look in the mirror. I am a hypocrite, for I am both proud and ashamed of you.
There are so many things I wish you had.
A graceful, visible collarbone. A strong, clear jaw. A defined face, a delicate and bold profile. Smaller thighs, a better butt, less fat and sag. Get skinnier arms, a smaller stomach, and stronger ankles. You've got zits and incurable dry skin. You are pale and frizzy and have too much extra baggage. Your chin is too round, cheeks too chubby, legs too stocky. You're petite, but still too wide. You're not strong enough, either. You're just not good enough.
I've called you ugly. I've sunk into a gloom when I've remembered you, how I am seen as you.
But...
you are a temple. Both capable and fragile. A vessel. And I am looking you in your clear eyes and telling you that you are strong. You are beautiful. And you have been faithful to hold out through every test of endurance. You break and heal again. You sweat, taste, hold, feel. You are a work of art.
You may not be perfect, but you are mine. And you are what has God has given me for the time being,
and I will learn to believe what you are:
a gift.
No comments:
Post a Comment