I'm always looking at you, saying 'you're ugly', 'you're fat', 'you're too short', 'you're too tall', 'you're not working properly', 'your nose is too big', 'your hands are too big', 'you're not normal', 'you should be able to do this and this and this...', 'why can't you dance like other people?', 'why can't you move like other people?', 'why don't you stand straight like other people?'
I am forever criticising you, trying to find a way to make you 'better'. To make you 'perfect', to make you how everyone seems to say and think you should be.
But when I really, really look, I see the truth of the matter. I look beneath, and behind, and around the corners, and at what is right in front of me, I look properly, with open eyes, and I see your beauty. You are so, so beautiful.
In the image of God you were created, in the image of Beauty Himself. From the dust of the earth, He formed you. Shaping each special, precious, important part of you together, forming you into you.
It isn't about what the world sees, I can see that now. I can see past this layer of dirt and grime the world clothes you in, and I see you, I see what you really are.
I see how you can move in this way that enables you to do such amazing things. You have all these abilities. I see how you can walk, how you can hold, how you can hug, how you can cherish, how you can comfort, how you can see, how you can hear, how you can talk, how you can scream. I see all the things you can do. All the incredible, amazing, wonderfully marvelous things you can do.
I appreciate you. I see that you are who you are, and though that doesn't feel like what I want, it is more than I need. You are a blessing I often look past, that I often forget, and brush to the side.
I am saying sorry. Sorry for insulting you, sorry for moaning at the things I don't like whilst ignoring the billions of things that make you incredibly remarkable. Sorry for being rude. Sorry for not caring for you. Sorry that I hurt you.
Please forgive me.
Thank you, for seeing me through, for carrying me all this way, for housing me, for sorting me out, for making me, me.
I will try not to be so horrible. I promise, I will try.
You are beautiful.
I give you me,
Lots of love,
Above is my love letter to my body. It is part of a synchroblog started by SheLoves magazine.