My friends say that I always see the best in others. And I guess this is one of my best qualities. But I find it so ironic. That I cannot muster enough kindness to say something good about myself.
I’ve loathed my body with all the hatred I could carry. For I could never be society’s standard of beauty. The way I would apologize for the way it took up space. How it no longer felt like my home. As I tried to fit a mold that would never be me.
Thus, I have been in a vicious cycle. One where I attacked my reflection in the mirror; knit picking areas that I hated. How I constantly apologized for my existence. The way I tried to hide pieces of me in between shame and insults. And for years, I never gave myself a single kind word to hold on to. For I felt like I was the hardest person to love.
But my cycle of hatred will end here. I’m no longer apologizing for my body. For I’m finally seeing its beauty. How it is the vessel that keeps me alive. The very shelter of my soul. A sculpture handcrafted by God. The medium that makes me feel the entire world around me. Why would I ever apologize for it?
It took so much courage for me to accept my every imperfection. The way I let go of all my insecurities. Basking in with my stretch marks, folds, and bulges. I remind myself that my flaws are normal. They are just parts of me. I also tell my reflection that she is beautiful. Because I keep hoping that I’ll never forget that.
As I am slowly learning to love myself, I owe my body one last apology. ‘To my beloved body; I am so sorry I didn’t love you enough.’