This morning I took a photo of my belly, folded over itself, revealing a little snail trail… I looked down at it as I drank my coffee and felt grateful for its softness and the wisdom of my womb… And it made me realize I have not always been grateful for this part of myself…
This morning I did what I have been doing, what has been second nature for an incredibly long time, I casually glanced at my belly in the mirror and thought “need to loose some weight”, had I been wearing a shirt I would have pulled it up to reveal my soft flesh in the mirror and thought “I need to loose some weight”.
I am free of it. Well, for now. Because today. I love my body. Like they all tell us to. Love yourself. It makes me sick. The truth of it. But its true. So do it. Love your body. In your own time.
I had no idea, until an hour ago, how deep in it I was, and over the last few years I have let pieces of my armor drop away, piece by piece.
I think the last link fell, I heard a faint clink as it hit the floor, I don’t need my chain mail anymore because I choose to put down my sword and stop fighting against the only place I have to call home, my own body.
My belly.
My beautiful, soft, feminine, belly.
I had always been confused my how the rest of my body could be so muscular and my belly would never match, never harden, never submit to all the excersise and dieting I would put it through, it must be my digestion I thought, so I’ll fix that. But nope, still soft, plump and round.
But today I am grateful, for the space that one day will stretch out to carry a child.
I am grateful to have a functioning beautiful body, that, in truth, I will probably still compare to other people, however, right now, I feel at home, comfortable in my own flesh. And I am grateful for that. I am grateful for the beautiful partners I have had over the past few years who have made me feel so beautiful, sexy and delicious. I am grateful for dance as it has been my medicine, my gateway, my journey home to myself, to this vessel of divinity, flesh and bones.