My Body…

I love it.

I hate it.

I touch it.

I cringe.

I squeeze.

I smile.

It’s the only one I’ve got.

I can’t go into a store and exchange it for a different style, or color or return it because it’s not functioning the way I thought it should. I can’t ask my friends to borrow their bodies for a night out on the town because their body would look better on me than them. I can’t put it away in a drawer and leave it there until it becomes a better fit for me in the summer time. It’s mine and there is nothing I can do about it. It’s what I was born with. It’s what I’ll die with.

This body.

Runs.

Jumps.

Moves.

Sweats.

Feels pain.

Lifts heavy objects.

Wears a smaller size.

Brings hope to others.

Brings hope to myself.

Inspires.

Intimidates.

Survives.

Lives.

It is strong.

Has Muscles.

Has extra skin.

Works hard.

Loves me unconditionally.

Spend some time today thanking your body. Thank it for all the love and support it has given you over the years (some of us longer than others). Thank it for showing up everyday despite all the hardships it has had to endure. Thank it for never giving up on you even when you gave up on your self countless times before. Thank it for putting up with the crap you ate and then thank it again for all the crap you took away from it after it was addicted to the food. Thank it for holding your hand as you took those first steps to living a better life and then thank it again for never leaving your side.

This is the body I will die with.

It has taken care of me for the first 40 years.

I intend to take care of it for the next.