I Love You Belly

I noticed recently that I’d gained some weight, without noticing. So I’ve been looking at my body a lot more. Waiting to see my exercise routine and cleaner diet take effect. Looking at it to see if it’s changed. Hoping it’ll change. And then one day I was sitting on the couch and my belly pooch was just out, looking poochy looking smushy, and I just rubbed it and said “I love you belly”. And I realized I actually meant it. I looked at it in a different light and I really saw all that it had been through. All that my whole body had been through. And I don’t know the last time I thanked my body. For being here. For persevering. Through panic attacks, an eating disorder, self harm, ovarian cysts, sexual assault, seizures, pregnancy, abortion… and yet I never say thank you. For carrying that pain. For not giving up on me. For pushing through. For supporting me. For surviving.

I never say I love you. For carrying me. For giving me my son despite doubting it could. When I didn’t trust it, didn’t love it, didn’t care for it, it kept proving itself time and time again. What a mighty body it is.

I want to practice it. Saying thank you. Saying I love you. Maybe saying it out loud. And I think that’s why self love is a practice. You work on it because it doesn’t come naturally. And maybe it never will, but you just keep doing it anyway even though it’s hard. Because look at what your body has done for you, despite being hard. Look at it still being there. Carrying you. Being mighty.