Thursday, July 15, 2010
An Open Letter to My Midsection
Dear Thighs, Dear Belly, Dear Buttocks:
I'm really just so sorry for how I've been treating you lately.
It's not your fault that you look and feel the way you do; it's my fault entirely. You don't deserve to be stabbed with my looks of disdain and discontent as we get dressed in the morning. You don't deserve to be treated as some evil nemesis of this body of mine; you belong to me, and you are a part of me.
To be honest, you really have never asked much of me. Your greatest wish is for me to take you running, so that you'll feel strong and powerful and healthy again. You want rest so that you can conquer each day with ease and grace. You want to be less burdened by fat so that you're not having to struggle carrying around extra weight on this frame. You're crying out to feel strong, and I'm completely ignoring your pleas.
I'm sorry, Midsection, that I've been embarrassed of you and that I've racked my brain for ways to cover you up. You've treated me so well over the years, carrying me to places and people and making my life so much richer by these experiences. I've treated you as the enemy when really, you are a warrior.
I'm sorry, Midsection. I really am concerned with your wellbeing, and I'm trying hard to figure out how to take better care of you. We'll get through this together.