Dear Body

Dear Body.

We have done a lot on this trail.

You are sunburnt.

Sleep deprived.

Sore.

Achy.

Wet.

Bitten.

Yet you keep giving me what I ask of you.

It makes me realize you have been doing this our whole lives.

Despite the times I have ridiculed, coerced, violated and allowed others to do the same, you have always faithfully responded to my requests… waiting for the time that I would see.

Oh body.

We have crossed mountain passes.

Forded rivers.

Sunbathed on rocks.

Felt the wind blow us around.

Laid in the grass.

Fought mosquitos.

Get the cool granite under us as we rested in the shade.

Felt the jagged edge of rocks that had to hold our weight.

This tent of mine, I’ve been thinking of as my home. But that’s merely a resting place. This trip, I’ve learned that you are my home.

Dear body.

I want to bless every part of you that I have hated or marred.

You have never deserved that.

You are sacred. Given to me by a God that values bodies so much, He sent Himself to dwell in one in the form of His Son. That though our bodies we learn to experience every good and perfect thing, so we may be prepared to see it when we are in heaven. You are not just a vessel that gets me from point A to point B. You are me, and I am you. We are together, thoughtfully and deliberately designed to do God’s work here on Earth.

Dear Body.

I am ready to love you.

Dear legs. I know I have cursed that you were not svelte enough, jiggled the wrong way, looked like a dicon radish rather than the ones I see on Instagram. But you legs have carried me everywhere I have wanted to go and we have gone some amazing places. You legs are strong, able to endure miles and carry packs that are too heavy… just so I can experience beauty. Thank you.

I bless you. I love you legs. Thank you.

Dear stomach.

You have perhaps endured the most vitriol of all. You have been the scapegoat of every time I have felt rejected or not pretty enough. But in you, I know houses every memory of being hurt, cast aside, not listened to, unwanted, accused , questioned and abandoned. You have found a way to comfort the rest of me through food, while I have been actively trying to cast you aside. I’ve premeditated surgery, purchased corsets, gone on extreme diets, stared at you on the mirror and said hateful things to you. I am sorry.

Stomach, the ironic thing is that I now realise that you house and protect my strongest ability. You carry my intuition. The very way that I move in the world, you carry it and keep it safe. Thank you and the billions of little gut bacteria that make you up.

Dear Thyroid.

You changed my entire view of my life. Little gland of very little notice, when Keith told me about you and the source of my hair loss, sleep issues and weight gain could be attributed to you…. I had no idea. You taught me that the smallest things, can change entire trajectories. That health was worth more than deadlines. You were the start of needing to care for myself and I am thankful for you and your lessons.

Dear Body.

When people attack you, I will defend you. Because their commentary about your looks or how you carry yourself is more about their insecurity than your being.

You are my home and it’s rude to come to someone’s home and criticise it.

I will no longer compare you to others. I will protect you from shame. You are unique, mine and wonderful. I want all of you.

You are sacred.

Paul calls you a living sacrifice.

Which means every act that we do is worship. What we do together is never punishment for eating incorrectly or because we take up too much space. What we do together is a celebration for what we are capable of. Each mountain we climb, to God the glory goes. Each time we do a yoga class, get a good night sleep, dance out of random happiness… it’s all His.

I am ready to love you.

You are mine and I am you.