Dear Imperfect, ungraceful, blemished, bulky, freckled, pasty, dimpled, curved body…
Yeah you. I see you. This morning as I brushed my teeth I saw you in the preposterously large mirror in my bathroom. You glared back at me, every plump roll moving as I moved. See, when you’re fat, everything moves. I have some things I wanna say to you today and you’re going to listen.
To my brazenly bald head. To you I give my heart. You, my friend are bold and brave. You are a symbol, a beacon of light. You represent letting go of social stigmas and yelling “Damn the man!” at the top of my lungs. You give the finger to all the people in my life who have said to me every time I color my hair “But you were so pretty with your gorgeous red hair!” You are smooth and soft and even though I despise the the little fat roll in the back that, if I’m honest, kinda looks like the sorting hat’s face from Harry Potter, I love you and I’m thankful you’re in my life.
To you, oh horrible double chin. I haven’t found it in my heart yet to appreciate you, but I’m working on it. I can’t say that a thank you is in order for the numerous heart attacks you have given me when I have opened my phone’s camera and it’s accidentally facing me. You suck.
To my two rather large arms. I am loving you more and more as the days go by. You are being covered in some of the most beautiful art. I love your style friends. Although I may still cringe a bit when I wear a tank top thanks to the flappy fatty skin that wiggles every time I wave at someone, I have to admit you come in pretty handy in some circumstances. For that, I will issue a few thanks. Thank you for the pretty bad ass hugs you allow me to give out to my kiddo. I love knowing that wrapping you around him is comforting. Thank you for allowing me to hold my husband. Not every day is always perfect, and everyone loves to be held when they are having a rough one. Also, thanks for the tiny scar that is now covered in tattoos that daily reminds me of that horrific car accident that I survived. You are hella cool.
To my breasts and my belly. Oh man have we had a rough go of it. Listen boobies, I know I wasn’t always nice to you in middle and high school since all the other girls were getting bigger and better versions, and I am truly sorry for that, I am… but I have learned to love you. You provided nourishment for my beautiful child and a soft place for my husband to rest his head at night. You may be small and somewhat lopsided. But I am thankful you are here and healthy. And my belly, oh Lord my belly…#santagoals. Do I often touch you and wish you were smaller? Yes. Did you make my high school career a living hell? Yes. That being said… you are a warm reminder of all the yummy delicious meals I have been so blessed to eat and every stretch mark, a stunning remembrance of the home you made room for as I grew a life inside me. I am growing to love you each day. Be patient with me my old friend.
To my short, stumpy, chunky legs. I have one simple thing to say to you. 13.1 baby… we did it. Maybe we only did it once. Probably never again. But we did it just the same. Thank you for taking me on that journey.
So as you can see, I’m aware of you my strange vessel. You are tiresome and ugly and wonderful and floppy and lived in and warm and honestly loved. Thank you for the exciting and interesting life you have allowed me to live, and thank you for the rest I have yet to discover. Stay young a little longer. I’m not done with you yet.