August 3, 2010 § 1 Comment
I’d like to talk about my longest relationship.
You see, my body and I have been together a very long time.
10,789 days, to be precise.
We were together since before I was even born.
My face has always been my face. It’s been a baby face, a child’s face, a teenager’s face, a woman’s face. It has gotten spots, wrinkles and pimples. It has scowled, grimaced, frowned. It has been wet with tears and tight with anger.
My arms have always been the same arms. They’ve been too skinny, they’ve been too round. They’ve been just barely too short to reach something on a high shelf. They’ve never been good at throwing or catching a ball.
My legs have always been the same legs. They’ve been too thin, too fat, too short, and too pale. They’ve had cellulite and stretch marks. They’ve tripped, they’ve fallen.
My face has always smiled more than it has frowned, and shed more tears of happiness than of sadness. My wrinkles are laugh lines. My face is the face of a daughter, the face of a friend. The face of a wife, the face of a mother.
My arms have hugged more times than they have pushed away. They’ve been stronger than I ever imagined possible. And sometimes, reaching for something on a high shelf? They’ve been just right.
My legs have propelled me into amazing things and amazing places. Into my first day of school, my first day of work. Into where I would meet my best friends, my husband. They walk, they run, and they dance. When they’ve tripped, they have always gotten back up again.
My body and I have been together for 10,789 days. And they’ve all been beautiful.