Today is Love Your Body Day, and I do love mine, not just today but every day.
I love my long legs. They look crazy sexy stretched out in front of me. They make me tall enough to reach all the cabinet shelves in our house. They let me walk and run and dance.
I love the stretch marks on my thighs, because they are proof I’ve changed size, so I never have to worry that I imagined that. I love the bizarre prickly sensation that shoots up my legs when I run my fingers along them.
I love my stomach, even though its the flabbiest part of me, and the first place I grow when I gain weight. No matter what it looks like, I love how rock solid it feels when I contract those muscles (thank you, Pilates!). I love that I have been photographed a few times with lighting and posing that suggest I have what Sweet Dee calls “side abs.” I love that despite these claims to flat tummy-ness, I can pinch off a whole handful of fat and loose skin, and even at my scary thinnest I my stomach would roll whenever I sat down. This makes me feel stealthy somehow.
And I REALLY love my stomach stomach, like the internal organ kind. And my whole digestive system, for that matter. Marrying a Jew has reminded me how lucky I am to hardly ever experience indigestion. Keep up the good work, Old Ironsides [yes, my stomach has the same nickname as the USS Constitution.]
I love my boobs. I still miss my DDs, but what is left is still pretty fabulous. And now I don’t have to sleep in a bra, which is a plus.
I love the big mole on my left side that fish always bite when I swim in lakes in a bikini. I love the crazy long hair that grows inside of it that I get to pull out about three times a year.
I love the three pink warts on my chest that form an isosceles triangle, because they match the triangle of freckles Collin has on the same place on his body.
I love how you can sort of make out muscle definition in my arms, but I love more that I’m stronger than I look.
I love my expressive face, even though it makes me suck at poker.
I love my big eyes. I love that those eyes squint up super tight when I’m grinning my biggest. I love the tiny semi-circle of green poking through the brown of my left iris. I love my eyelashes, which when properly handled look fake.
I love the dimple in my cheek that becomes a crater when I smile.
I love the scar through my left eyebrow. I like having a distinguishing mark. And I like being in the same badass club as Marlon Brando and Spike.
I love whatever it is about my bone structure that has convinced people I’m allowed to have the haircut I have.
All of this is to say that my body is gorgeous, and I love it for that. But I want to be clear that isn’t the only reason I love my body. I love my body even when it is being bad to me, when my skin cracks and scales and drives me crazy with itching. I love my body even though my hamstrings are pathetically inflexible and my right thumb gets sore after even light typing. My body is allowed to have faults and still be loved.
Because we’re REALLY married, my body and me, and there’s no possibility of divorce. I can’t even cheat on my body. I am stuck with it to the end. Talk about your “in sickness and in health,” huh? if there’s ever a case for “love the one you’re with,” its when it comes to body love. Who wants to spend all their time with something they don’t love? Not this chick.
So I love my body, and I try to be nice to it, and I hope it loves me back by staying healthy.
What do you love about your body?