On Learning To Love Myself
I am starting to feel like disliking yourself is a pre-requisite for being a woman. That you simply can’t be female unless you think that your bum is too big or that your stomach needs to be flatter. That you’re not really a woman unless you believe you’re not really qualified for your job or that you’re secretly a terrible friend.
We talk about the importance of self-promotion and believing in ourselves and not being confined by social norms, and yet our “flaws” seem to roll more fluidly off the tongue than our achievements do. We all know that perfection doesn’t exist, and yet we still all keep wasting our time striving for it.
I’ve written so many times before about body confidence and learning to love myself how I am right now, but as with everything in life, it’s an ongoing journey. It isn’t as easy as simply deciding to be happy with the wobbly bits and the cellulite. It’s a commitment – a vow to be grateful for everything my body does for me every single day.
And so that is what today’s post is – a thank you letter to my body. Because this body, it’s the only one I have. It’s been there for me through everything – the good, the bad, the ugly.
These eyes have helped me to read all of those books that have in some way shaped me.
These legs have run not one, but two marathons, and still somehow carry me around every single day.
This mouth has tasted food so delicious that it has felt like the most important thing in the world.
These shoulders have carried responsibilities I didn’t know I was capable of carrying.
These feet have kept me dancing to my favourite music with my favourite people until 5am in the morning.
These hands have been held by every person I’ve ever loved, including those who are no longer here.
These ears have helped me to enjoy music that has become the soundtrack of my life.
These hips have propped up many a baby and toddler while we danced around the living room together.
These arms have hugged friends in need close and offered up some small bit of comfort.
This stomach has housed the butterflies that have accompanied all of those special moments in my life.
This brain has given me every idea I’ve ever had (both great and terrible).
This heart has proven that love can heal even the most damaged of things.
When I think about all of the gifts this body has given me, it’s hard to think of it anything other than wonderful. It’s hard to think of it as something that needs to be changed or made smaller when I remember how many memories it has made. Instead, I remember that I should be grateful. I remember that I must keep learning to love myself.
Tunic - c/o: Miss Tunica | Sunglasses - Celine