Today, as I stood peering into the pantry in search of something appealing, my hand came to rest on the slight protrusion of my lower abdomen. As my mind reflexively went to a place of disgust, I consciously stopped the train of thought and instead spoke aloud some loving words to my own body and then thanked it for performing the miracle of making space for three other bodies to take form.
I couldn’t have managed that feat one year ago. At least not in a way of authenticity that instantly changed my feelings in that moment. But today, I fully meant it. There was no need for wishing the evidence of childbearing away before I could appreciate my current form. I didn’t feel the need to engage in any sort of bullying towards my own body as I have so many times before. There was only gratitude and awe at what my body has been capable of accomplishing.
Gratitude is honestly all that remains when I fully surrender to the belief that my body is more than an ornament to be ogled or judged on its appearance. To exist inside a body is a gift and a privilege that I am learning not to take for granted. My body is an instrument through which my soul can do it’s greatest work. It is the mechanism through which I am granted the opportunity to affect my own personal influence on the world around me. It is uniquely mine and it is miraculous. To reduce a body's value down to something as insignificant as its shape and appearance is to miss the purpose of a body altogether.
For too long, I held onto old routines of wishing my body into a different form for the sake of external approval. There was a belief that I would love it once it was perfect enough to be universally loved by others. But my body has never truly wanted to be loved by anyone but me. Who am I to deny that simple need any longer?
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