Your body. It's the only one you get in life. There are no reset buttons, no do-overs, no repeats, no rewinds, no fast forwards, and no exchanges. I know. Boo, hiss. Sometimes I'd like to wave a wand from Ollivander's and have my varicose veins magically disappear. Many a day I wish I had different hips (more on that later). The fact that we go gray early in my family is kind of a downer. I have stretch marks from bringing 3 rambunctious boys into this world and from growing super duper fast as a tween. The list goes on.
The "perfect" body doesn't exist (remember: those pictures of models on magazine covers are air-brushed, meaning what you're looking at is fake). Except your body. That's right. Your body is YOUR'S. It's just perfect. For you. It's not for anyone else. It's meant for you to run, jump, eat pie (mmm pie), smile, laugh, and clip its toenails. Maybe you still don't like your body. Perhaps you wish you had someone else's. Maybe you long for your body to be a way it was at some other time. And maybe you're just highly uncomfortable in your own skin altogether.
Why? What part(s) of your body make you cringe? Be honest with yourself. For me it's my varicose veins (3 boo's for genetics), my saddle bags, my large feet with french-fry-like toes (have you ever noticed that the cutest shoes are rarely made in the larger sizes?), my fine hair (Pinterest up-do's are always a fail), and my small almond-sliver eyes that require eye makeup to even be noticed. I don't know a woman who doesn't have at least one small thing she'd change about her body, if given the chance. If there's one or more things about your body you'd like to change, join the club honey.
So what do we do? Where does that leave us? Take the things about my body that I'd prefer were different. My veins: sure, I could get vein therapy, but there have been other much more pressing medical matters going on in my family for me to fret over my semi-blue legs. My saddle bags: I'm sure I could go on some crazy, no carb, cardboard-like diet for some ridiculous amount of time and have a firmer tush. Let's be honest, that sounds miserable! And besides, I'm approaching 40. Having some saddle bags isn't a big deal. I don't have the mental energy to care that much. I'd like to think it's sign of maturity...? I may be vain, but not *that* vain. My feet: yep, nothing, nada, zilch, forget about it. Sigh. I guess I'll find a way to love those french fries on my feet and embrace the search for non-frumpy shoes when I'm in the market. My hair: um... yeah. Given that there are women out there who struggle with baldness, I'm not even going to waste my time here. My stretch marks: I've chosen to own them like a boss. The ones from puberty just mean my body was ready to grow wicked-fast. Did that mean I was awkwardly tall early on? Yes. Was it demoralizing at the time? More than I can say. But it was a challenge I overcame and am better for it. Those stretch marks remind me of personal growth. Those from pregnancy I've earned, 9 months worth, 3 times over. I have 3 marvelous, crazy, mama-lovin' boys to remind me why those were worth every miserable week of pregnancy (I could write for days about how much fun pregnancy isn't).
So what's the point already? Our bodies need love. They need gratitude. They need care. The trick is that's going to look a little different on each one of us. Maybe your body needs more sleep. Maybe your body needs more vegetables (isn't that everyone?). Maybe your body needs more short walks to clear the mind. We could all love and care for our bodies a little better. I hope we can discuss ways to enjoy and care for our physical frames a little bit more and be happy with the way they look, flaws and all.
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