Sometimes I so dislike this body I’m in, or wish I could change parts of it, or resent its entire heavy awkwardness. But then sometimes, also, I am glad for all that it allows me to do…
I have never put up photos of myself where the largeness of my thighs, the thickness of my calves and the chunky roll of belly fat are so nakedly evident.
There were days where the only thing I achieved while awake was breathing, one breath in front of another.
I wondered at the kind of world we live in now where it is perfectly okay — in fact, encouraged — for young people to police and impose their judgements, no matter how seemingly harmless or childish or jokey, on each other’s bodies.
I looked my physical best. I fit into everything beautifully. My hair was a perfect bob. But absolutely no other part of me was well.
It took me a long time to accept that I am not supposed to please anyone, all I had to do was please my body and myself: I had to let it feel happy.
This is an open letter just to remind you to keep the true colours of you who are.
There is so much pleasure every day that our bodies are experiencing, and we miss it simply because we are living outside of our bodies instead of inside our experiences.
If we’re being totally honest with ourselves, we’d realise that being kind just because “it’s the right thing to do” isn’t really being kind at all.
… and other lessons from the Konmari art of decluttering