be proud of my body

I love my rough, bruised feet, because they mean I am not afraid to feel the earth beneath them.

I love that I’m a little pudgy, because it means I don’t restrain myself too much, and I can appreciate a good meal.

I love the little chip on my tooth, because it shows I’m not afraid to take risks sometimes, even if they have consequences.

I love my messy hair, because it means I let the wind flow through it.

I love the way my eyes crinkle when I smile because it means I don’t take myself too seriously.

I love my muscular legs because they show that I love to explore and roam around.

I love the scars on my hands because they show that I like to work hard.

I love the soil under my nails because it shows that I’m not afraid to get dirty.

I love my curves because they show my feminine side.

I love the little freckles on my nose because they mean that I let the sun warm my face.

Maybe the things that seem like imperfections aren’t bad at all…maybe they are just markers of the lives we’ve lived. Perhaps there are no ‘bad’ or ‘good’ physical features, but only bad or good ways of perceiving them.

For the first time since I was about 9, I am going out in public without long pants or a long skirt/dress on. Nightclubs call for a little more skin showing!