With spring's arrival, girls everywhere are stripping down to their bones. While most of us love the chance to show some skin and dress a little more flirty than frigid temperatures allow, the warming air sometimes makes us all the more aware of our bulging bits and cottage cheese.
Sitting here in the aching body of a newly-working girl (I am now employed in the newspaper department of the Free Library of Philadelphia), I am aware of the jiggly fat on my inner thighs and the small ham hocks that are my biceps (you'd be surprised how strong I really am). I am aware and, yes, a tad self-conscious, but then I remember one thing.
That one thing is this: My body is what gets me through the day, what carries me to and from my classes and my dorm and now work. Without this body, I'd be just a spirit and a brain. And while those two things are beautiful and very important, so is my body.
I am tired of hating the skin (and bones and fat) I'm in.
Is it just me or do I hear a chorus of "Amen, sister"?
No comments:
Post a Comment