Dear Floella,
I read a while ago something profound – that people with terminal illness of all ages are unified by a common regret that they will soon lose their mortal bodies, the vessels that have carried them throughout their lives and shared every aspect of their being.
Could you not think of your body as your friend and partner in life? That it has taken you on every adventure and held you up through great joys and profound sorrows?
Walk barefoot on the beach maybe, and marvel at how your toes grip wet sand and leave behind perfect prints on the surface of Earth, at how your ankles delicately bear your weight and the strength and determination of your legs, strong and confident as they stride forward. Your hips sway and hold you steady.
You speak of your chest negatively, but think how it shields your heart and it’s to this that you hold tight the things and people you love most, even when you cross your arms over your breasts and hug yourself. If you don’t hug yourself, you should. Your arms are strong and your hands are capable. They write your thoughts and prepare your food and make special things when you want to express love. They caress and create every single day of your life.
Feel the softness of your hair on the nape of your neck and the fringe of your eyelashes against your cheek. Your lovely eyes take in all manner of wonders; a puppy carrying a stick that’s way too large or the way the sun lights up the edges of a cloud or even the way your coffee steams in the mug when you pour it hot. And the same too, your nose, for sniffing the traces of your mom’s perfume and ears for hearing the rustling of trees and your lips are lovely because they taste honey and fresh bread and the cool sourness of ripe fruit. They form your words and sing and express a childlike giggle. How could you not love them?
Your body doesn’t exist for you, or anyone else, to pick apart and judge. It exists to house you and keep you safe and to express your needs and meet your desires. And that makes it beautiful, achingly beautiful.
So treat it well.
Drink lots of refreshing water and eat nutritious food. Slather cool lotion over your skin and get a manicure. Wash your hair with gentle shampoo and a strong conditioner, and then let it dry behind you in a gentle wave. Exercise your body just to feel it working so diligently – take long walks, or go kayaking or take a dancing lesson or stretch in a yoga class without ever lifting your eyes off your mat to dare compare your very own body with that of anyone else.
There’s not ‘one thing’ you should like about your body. You should love every aspect of it, even the scars and stretch marks and bumps and blemishes that are souvenirs of your remarkable ability to survive and flourish.
Love your body. All of it. Marvel every day at its strength and resiliency and beauty. Celebrate it. Care for it. It’s yours, the physical manifestation of you. And that makes it freaking amazing.