An Open, Honest Letter To My Body

To my body:

In the last year you have changed more than I ever expected, and it took a toll on me more than I am willing to admit.

You rounded at the edges and softened to touch,

Your curves more defined, yet not as harsh.

You were affected by things out of my control

Medications,

Quarantine,

Mental illness,

You were taking the brunt of it all.

You became different,

More different than ever before.

But without fail, you carried me through it all,

Yet somehow

I have grown to resent you.

I have gotten stuck by the number on the scale and the skirt that doesn't fit.

There is a part of me that feels as though I am in another person's body.

I feel as if don't recognize the person staring back at me.

But then I grow sad 

Saddened by my lack of love for you,

Saddened by how much a few numbers on a dumb, little machine can affect my mood for weeks,

Saddened by the fact that I hate you, when everyone around me calls me beautiful.

Most of all,

Saddened by the fact that I feel as though my worth lies in my physical being.

That somehow, I amount to the size of my jeans 

Rather than the truth,

That this body is just the vessel that houses the person deep below.

Yes, you have changed.

Yes, it has changed the way I look at you.

But you are not who you are without the soul that is inside of you,

The soul that is joyful, passionate, and excited about life.

So I say 

To my body:

You are not "perfect"

You are ever changing,

Up and down,

But I will commit to learning to love you where you are at, from now on,

And I will continue to appreciate the places you have taken me.

Most of all,

I will remember that we are in the now

Together.

There is no reason to compare you to the past or to obsess about the future.

This is a journey, and I am tired of hating myself when there is so much to adore.