A letter to my body

We have not always been friends. In fact, I’ve spent over half of my teen and adult years at war with you. I fed you less than I should have. I pinched the soft skin between your hips and waist and whispered words of disgust at you in the mirror. I forced you to move when you didn’t want to. I skipped out on rest so I could spend extra hours in the gym...even when you told me to stop. I prevented you from calories you desperately needed, then stuffed you past the point of fullness when I couldn’t handle the hunger any longer. In seasons of darkness I pressed my fingernails into the softness of your palms and inner thighs and murmured ugly words through clenched teeth. “Stupid”, “worthless”, “weak”, “fat”, “ugly”. I didn’t see your strength then. I didn’t see the treasure that you were...created in the image of a Savior who forgives and loves unconditionally. I compared you to other bodies, bodies you were never created to look like. In my mind I made you out to be the enemy when all along you supported me. You were created to be strong and resilient. You weren’t designed to be hated, undernourished and ashamed of. I can see now what I never could understand then. You are beautiful. It’s not so much in the curves of your hips or the curl of your hair, although those details were so careful designed before you were even born. It’s in strength of your legs to move you mile after mile even when fatigue sets in. It’s in the softness of your arms to hold those you love close to you. It’s in the curl of your lips as you smile and laugh with your love. I see you through different eyes now. Eyes that know nothing on this side of heaven is perfect, but as surely as God said on the 6th day of creation it is “very good”.

-With so much more respect and love, Katie