Today, my body turns THIRTY.
I say “my body” because I truly don’t feel like my mind is this old. It’s kinda stuck in that pre-puberty time when fart jokes were fun and you didn’t undress in front of others in the locker room.
I was a late bloomer.
My body though, well, it’s not thirteen anymore (thank God!). And today, in this particular thirtieth year of it’s existence, I’d like to honor my body by writing it a love letter.
You’re welcome, Body.
Dear 30-Year Old Body,
You simply amaze me.
Your adaptation to change.
The way that move when my mind wills you to move.
I love that you’re so willing to work for me.
With nary a complaint. (Except that whole plantar fasciitis thing. That was particularly uncool of you.)
I’m so so very sorry for neglecting you in the past.
For starving you and making you weak.
I’m putting my best effort into treating you right NOW.
Fueling you with good foods, backing off from aggressive exercising and listening more intently when you need chocolate.
A work in progress. Always.
I’m grateful for the babies you’ve grown.
That fact alone makes me weep with joy.
You are amazing. A miracle of function.
Two children later, and you look better than before!
Thank you for that. My husband thanks you for that.
You can stop anytime with the gray hairs, the stretch marks and spider veins.
The wrinkles too. Those can go.
Although I do think they show just how happy we both are. JOY lines.
Fine, they can stay.
In this next year, let’s get stronger together.
Learn to do some new things.
Please kip for me. Or run a trail marathon. Or do a handstand pushup.
Or grow another baby.
Let’s do all of that.
I love you.
QUESTION: When is YOUR birthday – How old is your body? Finish this statement: Dear Body…..