Letter to My Body

Overcoming years of an eating disorder throughout my youth and adulthood, navigating internal peace with my body has been a trek, not just a journey or weekend jog. This past week, I was prompted to write a letter to my body. I'm sharing it here, uncensored, unedited, in effort to be authentic but perhaps this process can support another person out there too.

Dear Body,

I have hated you and felt betrayed by you. Why don't you make losing weight easy? Why do you get so stuck and heavy? I wish you didn't age. I wish you were thin. I wish you were stronger and limber and beautiful. I wish you were timeless. But, I am grateful that you have been strong. I'm grateful that you are as pretty as you are, even though I've berated you for how you look. I'm grateful that you are as healthy as you are. I appreciate you for giving me children. I appreciate you for carrying and lifting and working. I appreciate you for seeing and hearing. I appreciate you for orgasms and instant feedback. 

I appreciate you for dancing and running and climbing. I appreciate you for nursing my babies. I appreciate you for getting rest and for your stamina. I remember that time we jackhammered the brick wall or the way that sun feels on you when we are at the lake. I love to feel the sense of flying when we rollerblade or the success of getting to the end of a physical challenge like a hike or run. 

I'm glad we can do yard work, and swim, and sit or lay comfortably. I'm glad our hands work so I can paint and craft and even write this letter. 

Thank you for sleeping so I can dream. 

Thank you for being a safe place for my kids to hug and hold. Thank you for being held by my husband and making all the chemicals work when I kiss or make love Thank you for my ears that hear music and my babies cries and children's voices and laughter and jokes- the timber of a conversation from friends and loved ones. 

I'm grateful for strong legs and clear sight. I'm grateful that so many times I'e been able to support my family using the strength of my body. I'm grateful for the all we took yesterday up the mountain trail- the breeze, the fragrance of spring coming, the earthy must from damp and waking soil. The sage brush. 

I'm sorry that I have betrayed you and starved you and punished you. I'm sorry I have tortured you and cut you and hated you- all because of the way you look. I'm sorry I have pushed you to extremes. I'm sorry I haven't thought kindly or spoken kindly about you. Please forgive me. I am doing my part to do better and speak better, to think better, to heal my emotions and heal my psyche. 

I am learning self care. I am learning self-love. Thank you for surviving the car accident. Thank you for being strong so that damage was minimal. Thank you for responding so quickly so that no one was killed. Thank you for my children. Thank you for the struggle to bear them and endure- that taught me physical and emotional strength. Thank you for my mental connections and brain that functions- even with all my abuse for years. Thank you for strong and resilient teeth. Thank you for healthy digestion and heart and lungs. Thank you for taste buds! Thank you for the pleasure  of clothes. Thank you for wearing ridiculous heels and shoes and amazing boots. Thank you for jumping over the fire so many times. I like my voice and love to sing. Thank you for that too. 

Thank you for the way that stretching feels and swimming. Thank you for moving and taking me places like Havasupai and across the world so I can see and feel and sense the energy.

Thank you again for my sight to see and nose to smell and ears to hear- these amazing things and world around me. Thank you for being free from almost all allergies and I can touch and feel, and eat almost anything I desire. 

Thank you of holding the pen. 

I can truly say, I love you. 

Katie Jo