A Love Letter to My Body

Dear Me -

I can’t quite recall when the physical abuse started, but it was a long time ago.  I also can’t remember what pushed me over the edge, but it couldn’t have been just one thing.  Your mind endured years of verbal abuse from so-called friends that you tried to ignore and forget.  The words suddenly became unspoken and transformed into your reality.  I can’t craft a decent enough apology to undo all the deprivation.  Please know that I do recognize this and my mission thus forward is to redeem myself. 

Even though I finally permitted you to indulge in delicious delicacies, I still spent a number of years pushing you down.  If it wasn’t the ill fitting clothes, it was the way in which my white, chubby frame blinded me in florescent illuminated dressing rooms.  I hoped to not pass a mirror or window for fear of seeing that ugly girl – Me.  Time eventually healed this oozing wound.  Only a small scar was left behind.   

Today, I can stand tall knowing that I have overcome so much in my life.  I love the person who is writing this letter and I hope to reflect the same sunshine to my daughters.  I am beautiful.  I am hopeful that, one day, I’ll accept everything about myself that society shuns or air brushes.  I walk into this next chapter knowing that sagging skin, wrinkles, cellulite and stretch marks are just battle wounds of being a strong woman.  Watch me shine.

Love,

Me.

 

A Love Letter to my Body

One of These Days

“One of these days, your heart will stop and play it’s final beat.”

- Foo Fighters. Wasting Light. RCA, 2011. CD.

This song.  This song.

I distinctly recall standing on sore feet in the Wells Fargo Center, half deaf already, holding Marcus’ hand and hearing Dave Grohl weave his lyrics through my bleeding ears.  I shouted along with the rest of the crowd as tears streamed down my face.  As the words rolled off my quivering lip I remembered that call, almost two months to the day, when my world started to melt around me.  I almost lost a very special person – one of my rocks.  This song brings back all those memories, but somehow makes me that much stronger than the puddle I was on September 12, 2011.  That event forced me to realize that I would be facing adult-like challenges in the future.  I would have to be strong; I would need to overcome all fear. 

I put so much passion in to my Tough Mudder training.  I had everything to prove – to myself AND to others.  I attempted to run from the darkness that aggressively attempted to swallow me.  With each push up I felt closer to eternal life.  Every bruise, sore muscle and blister was just another badge of honor – a small sacrifice to disappear.  Don’t misunderstand – I was scared shitless.  I tried to train the memory away, but it only faded slightly.  I’ll spare you the Mudder details such as the cold wind, icy water and beaten legs.  We started as a team and ended as a team, but there was one thing that I had to tackle on my own – THE PLANK. 

I am deathly afraid of heights.  My heart races, palms sweat and my body gets numb.  I knew that I would need to climb walls and cargo nets, but I’d have the help of my team to get me through.  The Plank is a 15’ leap off a ledge into a freezing cold pond.  Give me a break.  I knew it was coming; I was dreading it.  There would only be two options: Go for it or chicken out.  I can’t recall how far we’d gone, but I could see the infamous Plank in the distance.  Nothing changed; I was overcome with fear.  As I approached, I decided it would be easier on me if I just went for it.  I picked up my pace and pulled away from my team.  I got a good boost and scaled that wall like it was my mission in life. 

I pulled myself up to the ledge and started screaming at all the people.  “FUCKIN’ JUMP ALREADY”; “JUST FUCKIN’ DO IT”.  I definitely scared some poor girl and the guy in front of me jumped to save himself.  Then.  It was.  My.  Turn.  Something inside me called the shots.  Without any thought I walked off the edge.  The fall lasted less than two seconds.  The cold water shocked my body and for a moment I thought I was going to drown; I might have even died for a minute.  I never touched the bottom, but an eternity passed before I bobbed up to the surface.  My feet were heavy as I tried to swim to the muddy bank.  People were there waiting for me.  I struggled to reach out as they pulled me out of the water.  I got back on my own two feet and realized that I was okay. 

My piece of advice: Just fuckin’ jump.  People will be there to pull you out and soon you’ll be standing on your own two feet, stronger than ever.  Just fuckin’ jump.  I promise…it’ll be okay.