I was looking at this body today:
I thought as I looked at it about how it has changed. I then looked down at myself. I ran my hand over my stomach and felt the obvious pooch that was there from my added weight and today, I loved my body.
My body has brought me through abuse. It has endured a lot. It has endured being forced upon. It has endured being molested. It has survived. My body is kick ass!
My body has gone through eating disorders and come through to the other side. It has been treated unkindly and yet has still not failed me. It has been through Lyme disease, a muscle disease, bone disease, and STILL it pushes on. Yeah, my body kicks ass.
This body has been through hell. But this body has also brought life:
So, today, I am not thinking of my body so much as something that can be physically touched or even looked at. It isn’t about the difference in my muscle tone, or the fat distribution. I am thinking of my body as simply being incredibly strong and resilient. I am thankful for my body. The focus should never have been on my weight or how it looks. The focus is on the sheer fact that this body, my body, is something to be incredibly proud of. It has carried me through this life and I will not be ashamed of it any longer.