You did good today.
You woke up, dressed, worked out, breathed, sweated, digested, poo’d, and so far have done all the things I’ve wanted you to.
I look at you today from a position of admiration and awe.
At 34 years old, you’ve gotten me this far with minimal issues.
The odd injury.
A few external scars from drunken nights out, and internal ones from old boyfriends, broken friendships and poor life decisions.
I haven’t always felt this way about you.
Nor do I look on you so positively on a day to day basis.
So I suppose this is an apology of sorts.
For how I’ve spoken about you in the past, and how I surely will speak about you again in the future.
You’re strong. Muscular. Defined. Wobbly bits exactly where they should be.
You run, jump, lift, laugh, cry, have sex, and are generally very obedient!
Yet sometimes, I mourn you.
The body you once were.
The slimmer, leaner, younger body.
The one that looked great in that dress you wore that one time 5 years ago, when life was very different, stress was lower and you had that awful possessive boyfriend who didn’t support your career.
Even knowing that I wasn’t as happy in you, as fulfilled in my career or relationships, I still sometimes wish I had you.
And the feeling that comes with wishing you were different?
Because that slimmer, leaner body never defined me.
It never said I was more valuable on this Earth. More loved by my friends and family. Better at my job. A nicer human being,
I just took up less space.
And had some shadows between my abdominal muscles which society told me I needed.
But still, sometimes I mourn it.
I feel envy toward those on their fitness journey achieving their physical transformations for the first time.
I pinch the tops of my thighs knowing those jeans I love won’t look quite the same on me anymore.
I look at crop tops with despair knowing I won’t feel quite the same wearing them.
And then I check myself (which I find happens more regularly as I get older).
Body, you’re incredible.
You’re never going to look like you did when you were at your smallest.
Nor should you.
I want to give you the respect and appreciation you deserve for everything you’ve given to me the last few years since I thought you were at your most desirable.
Because since then, you’ve fallen in love. Built your own business. Established your most important friendships. Travelled to new places and had incredible experiences which sometimes involved moving you in certain ways or excessive consumption of food.
The body you were then wouldn’t have coped with all of that.
So, if this is the body that enables me to train my hardest, love to my fullest, laugh with the full capacity of my lungs and put up the biggest fight when times get tough, I’m totally into it.
From now on, I’m going to talk to all the parts of you like you have ears.
Because you’re not going anywhere, and I goddamn love you.