I looked at my mother, and she’s so small now…I shriveled up, looking at myself, thinking “Why can’t that be you?” I think “love/hate” is an understatement of what I actually go through with you. Everyone tells me, “I’d kill for a body like yours" or "Why do you want to lose weight? You're so curvy?"...but I still have moments where I dread you. Does that just make me human?
I told myself I needed to step back before my friends come this weekend. And they all look good. So, I wanted to shower you in love so I could wash away this insecurity, so I wouldn’t be envious of them..forgetting that you matter, too.
My dearest body…I admire your smile. It’s perhaps the prettiest thing about you. But, why do I still struggle to accept the rest of you? One month I celebrate your curves and can’t imagine a life without thighs. A week later…I’m researching what I need to do to melt my stomach away. So, tell me, where I am trying to fit?
Is it in these spaces where I only see white skin or black skin and small bodies? Or is it in a culture of 400+ likes meaning “beauty”? Where am I trying to fit? Is it in these plus size outfits on Pinterest on models that aren’t MY Plus Size? Is it the clothes that were once familiar when a 12 was almost my size?
I do commend you body. While you may be confused now, at least you’re not demanding me now to be skinny for the sake of a man. Now, you just want to love me…and you want me to love you. I guess I’m trying to figure out…how to. Where…do I fit?
It can’t possibly be in these shuttle bus seats that I try to suck my hips in, to try to make everyone ELSE comfortable around me. Dear body, why do I do that? Why do I go straight to the handicap bathroom as if that’s the only stall for me? Why don’t I ever sit in the middle of class to be front and center…yet inside want all the attention? For once, my body, I’m ready for you to talk to me…because I’m ready to listen.
And that’s why I wrote this….because you are unruly. But, I don’t know. Is there really another way. Because even at a size 12…you still weren’t happy. You still were…running. You still….thought you were ugly. You still….wanted your world to end. You still…couldn’t sleep. You still…were drowning. So, where do you fit?
You fit everywhere. Right here and right now…in the very places you’re trying to hide. See, deep inside…you’re smiling just as big as you are on the outside. You’re just afraid to let it show, because it may be the world that has a problem with this body. But, that’s not your issue to solve. The world hated you the minute your blackness was bestowed upon you, inevitably. You might as well give the world something else to talk about. So, you fit…everywhere you go…for everyone to smile, laugh, and cry…and do whatever else when you meet. Because dear body, your small ears don’t compare to your big dreams. And your skinny fingers don’t measure up to your huge heart. And those hips? Oh body, those hips. Those hips have twirled…and jumped…and danced in other countries you once dreamed of going to. Oh body… you may be unruly to me. But, perhaps you’re not unruly at all….This body…is a dream. This body…is strong. This body…is happy.
And unruly body? I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I once got so low on you, I invaded our privacy. I’m sorry….I gave you away for free. Please, body, forgive me. And I hope that somewhere in this relationship…you correct me when I’m doing you wrong. Like when I get too happy and digest too many calories in a weekend…tell me to detox. Like when I go to the gym and head straight to the bike…tell me to get to running. Like when…I’m in the world around all these other different bodies…these other pretty bodies…tell me…mine matters, too.
I want to love you….And I don’t want or feel the need to be skinny to do that. I want to take care of you-clean you up, shave even when I hate it, drink water and lots of tea, workout at least four time a week. I want this for us…and I don’t want to give a damn that you’re unruly. Because, body,... you’re me. And me…Me is pretty fucking amazing.
I’m sorry body…if it took me long to realize that. So, pretty please, when I start to feel like I’m nothing…Body, remind me…
I’m fucking perfect. ♡
Have you seen “F**kin’ Perfect” by P!nk? Watch now here.