This follow up to A Love Letter to my Body is featured on SheLoves Magazine today. Click the link below to continue reading the full article.
Do you remember the movie Up? There’s a memorable scene where the old man’s house floats away, suspended by a colorful myriad of balloons. That moment perfectly exemplifies the experience of penning my love letter to my body this past summer.
It felt as though every painful comment, jabbing remark and countless moment spent scrutinizing that extra bit here, the saggy bit there, was delicately tied to a carefree, bobbing balloon.
I imagine mine were a brilliant and bold yellow–a golden sea of them–stretching for miles and miles. The moment my letter became public, they soared, filling the vast open sky, effortlessly lifting my mansion-sized baggage.
And as your gorgeous offerings poured in—rich crimson, brilliant fuchsia and airy blue—they too were released, in every sense of the word, alongside mine to the horizon.
With a holy breath all the hate and pain and pressure floated away. My burden-crushing moments of before became light. As I watched years of self-inflicted wounds become a distant speck, my shoulders relaxed. I exhaled deeply.
Then I turned around.