This is in response to a challenge given to our running group. We were supposed to write a love letter to a body part that we simply don't love. I had a few parts in mind, but settled on this one.
I apologize for the things I said today in the dressing room. I realize now, it’s not you, it’s me. Let’s face it, you have been trying to communicate and I have been ignoring you. You let me know your needs with an array of sounds, growls, gurgles, groans even. You tell me when you need something and when you have had your share. Still, I ignore you. I do what I want to do, when I want to do it and then have the audacity to blame you when my jeans don’t fit, or when a dress... looks too snug. You puff out if I’ve had too much salt and you jiggle if I have had too much sugar. And still every morning, you try your best to flatten out and to show me that with a little willpower and exercise what we might look like together, you and me.
You, you carried my two beautiful children. Nestled them snuggly and protected them. You stretched for them, making more room and leaving bright pink streaks, signs of your new residents. I remember the joy of putting my hand on you and feeling little feet and powerful kicks. Strangers and friends alike were once so drawn to you as you proudly sported the new lives forming within. Is there anything more beautiful than a belly full of baby?
But here we are, years later and I have forgotten to appreciate you. You are one of the first to show me when I am not taking care of myself. Stress likes to settle with you. Carbs like it there, too. You have tried to communicate with me, sometimes subtly and sometimes loudly howling in the middle of a morning meeting. I have only resented you, berated you, tried to hide you, smothered you with spanx and cursed you when bathing suit season rolled around.
I’d like to say let’s start again. Clean slate. I’m going to just look at you with admiration. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. Relationships can be tricky. I’m going to try to listen better and appreciate you more. I’m going to try.
You, you carried my two beautiful children. Nestled them snuggly and protected them. You stretched for them, making more room and leaving bright pink streaks, signs of your new residents. I remember the joy of putting my hand on you and feeling little feet and powerful kicks. Strangers and friends alike were once so drawn to you as you proudly sported the new lives forming within. Is there anything more beautiful than a belly full of baby?
But here we are, years later and I have forgotten to appreciate you. You are one of the first to show me when I am not taking care of myself. Stress likes to settle with you. Carbs like it there, too. You have tried to communicate with me, sometimes subtly and sometimes loudly howling in the middle of a morning meeting. I have only resented you, berated you, tried to hide you, smothered you with spanx and cursed you when bathing suit season rolled around.
I’d like to say let’s start again. Clean slate. I’m going to just look at you with admiration. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. Relationships can be tricky. I’m going to try to listen better and appreciate you more. I’m going to try.
