Dear body:
I wish I could say I like you…even accept you. I wish I
could recall all the things you do for me instantly, trust you without
hesitation. But the truth is, we have major relational issues. In the past, you
have been used, violated, and disrespected by myself and others. I am sorry I didn’t
protect you, that I disregarded all your needs and wants and instead threw you
around like a rag doll, placing shame, guilt, and regret onto you. Your outer being
emitted that very essence of my soul: self-consciousness, fear, and vulnerability.
Which was time and time again taken advantage of. I still believe this was my
fault. I feel I deserved it. I allowed it to happen, somehow asked for it. The
only way I knew how to alleviate the nauseating feelings of disgust, the
memories of hands on me, the things I have done…was to RUN. To shrink away from
myself and others…literally. To retreat back to skin and bone, because that is
all I deserved. All I knew.
I ran you into the ground, I starved you. I sucked the life
from your veins and robbed you of all pleasure, joy, and nurturing. Yo9u were
my slave, and I your driving task master. I wanted you to be perfect, immaculate
from all you did to how you looked. Never again would I ever hear the word ‘fat’
used in reference to you, though this one word I utter to myself every breathe
I allow to fill my lungs.
You are my vehicle to explore life, my vessel in which to
store all the beauties in life, the shells that inhabits my soul. Yet you are
my worst enemy, my greatest fear, and my darkest battleground. However, if I
continue to engage in this fight, I will fail. I am not stronger than this
disease. If is cunning, baffling, and powerful. So now I must raise my white
flag. I give up. I can’t destroy and degrade you any longer. I admit defeat. I
surrender. I wanted to capture beauty, but failed to see the beauty within. I
wanted to find safety, but I landed myself in Hell. I long to allow human touch
and affection in without grimacing at the terror that you will hurt me…again. I
expect it now and shutter at the reverberating question that ruminates in my
soul. “What are they thinking of me? What have I done? What will be done to me?”
But to be honest, I’m too tired of caring. What others think of me is none of
my business. They know my name, they know my story. At the end of the day, it
comes down solely to me and God. He doesn’t make mistakes, or so I have been
told. So I now apologize- for the mistakes I have made. How I have treated you.
What I have allowed to happen to you-the pain I have inflicted onto you. I
thank you for putting up with my demands and for never giving out on me. I hope
you will accept my demands so we can rebuild this relationship. I know you are
unsure and frightened. I am scared too~ so we will begin with baby steps. “Sometimes
quickly, sometimes slowly.”
You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Your scars tell a
story. Your arms embrace life; your hands allow others to reach out to you for
help. Your smile can change your perception, and your feet can carry you on
this journey, no matter how strenuous, how rocky, how tedious or painful. I won’t
give up on you. I won’t give up on us. We are in this together. May God protect
us as we trudge this road of happy destiny. One day at a time.
Sincerely~
W.G
