this, my body, is beautiful.
it holds the wonders of creation and the magical mysteries of life.
it has lived, breathed, nourished and held more than just myself.
it is the creator of worlds untold and dreams uncountable.
it has features unique to just me –
things only me, God and my love will ever know of.
it is the canvas of my soul; colorful, imperfect and ever changing.
this, my body, is powerful.
it overcomes pain – joint pain and deep in the bone pain.
it is familiar with the pain of broken bones, split skin and stubbed toes.
it endured through the pain of childbirth and the fire that is thrush.
it welcomes the monthly battle that it goes through to destroy an organ.
it has known the endless pain of failing at it’s job of carrying a baby
– the pain of losing a baby and feeling it leak out of you.
this, my body, is precious.
it is a one of a kind special edition, a collector’s item,
something never to be seen again whole.
it is half of the blueprint that makes up my children. this nose, these eyes.
to hate any part of it would be to look at my children and to say to them
that i hate these things on and in them as well.
it is the only body that i have been given – i must cherish it.
this, my body, is mine.
i own it.
i claim it.
i hold it dear to me.
this, my body.