Dear body,

I don’t even know where to start. For 30 years we have been together yet somehow we have been strangers. I’ve hated you, belittled you, compared you and wished you were different. All while you fought to keep me going. You allowed me to have moments of joy even when my heart was heavy with pain. You grounded me when I was lost in loneliness. You kept me going when I was too afraid to say no to others. You whsipered warnings and I only got angrier at you. The more others criticised you, the more I turned onto you- when I should have wrapped you in a hug and said, “I am sorry.”

But today, I truly am sorry. 

I am sorry for:

• Not seeing how you helped me achieve everything I am proud of. Without your strength, none of this would have been possible. If you would have given up, I would have too.

• Feeding you things which numbed my pain for a moment but gave you nothing in return. You were starving for care and I gave you coping mechanisms. 

• Withholding sleep and rest from you as a form of punishment, as I battled with not being perfect.

• Letting others criticise you and staying silent. I would have defended everyone else – so why didn’t I defend you? You were mine too.

• Pushing you to do more, be more, achieve more even when you were screaming at me to stop. All because I didn’t feel good enough.

• Hating you every time I looked in the mirror, finding faults with you when you so desperately needed a warm embrace. 

• Holding tension in my muscles, clenching my jaw and causing you pain when what I really needed was boundaries. 

• Suppressing your emotions – joy, sadness, grief because I was afraid of being “too much.” Taking away from you what would have made you even more beautiful. 

• Saying yes when I meant no. Letting resentment grow where peace should have lived and I know you felt that too. 

• Ignoring the basics:  hydration, medication, skin care. I was so tired of giving to everyone else, I stopped showing up for you. 

• Denying you movement because I thought everyone/ everything else mattered more except you. 

• Hiding you under dark and baggy clothes, terrified of being seen and judged. When I should have been the first to celebrate you. 

• Ignoring your pleas. Every time you said “I am tired” I pushed you harder. You promised you’d take care of the rest if I just changed one thing. I didn’t. 

• Blaming you for breakouts, bloating, illness and fatigue. When all along it was me not listening. 

• Wanting to replace you every time someone rejected me. When it should have been them, I should have replaced. 

• Laughing at you. I should have been the last person to do that, but I was the first. As a shield to hide the pain, but it wasn’t fair on you. 

• Showing up for everyone else except you. 

So, when you showed up weak, stiff, tight and in pain. How can I blame you? You gave me chance after chance, but I kept turning away. 

But that ends now. I have grasped your hand now and I am not letting go. Before I pour into another, I am going to pour into you. And while the guilt of not doing this sooner aches in my chest, I know you will forgive me. 

Because you are strong. 

Because you are resilient 

Because you are powerful

Because you are me. 

Because you always loved me just as much as I am finally learning to love you.