My Body, the One that I No Longer Wanted to See

This part of me, I have lent it out, given it, abandoned it... My body is tired, wrinkled, damaged. It bears indelible lines, marks that nothing will be able to erase. It has changed, a lot. It has almost become a stranger. I feel like I have lost contact with it.
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This part of me, I have lent it out, given it, abandoned it... My body is tired, wrinkled, damaged. It bears indelible lines, marks that nothing will be able to erase. It has changed, a lot. It has almost become a stranger. I feel like I have lost contact with it.

My stomach, my breasts, my bottom... They no longer have shape. My skin has lost its suppleness. It hangs from my hips, waist, from under my arms.

This space is nothing to me and yet it is there. After all these months when I didn't pay attention to it. It is always present. But it is unrecognizable. After going through adolescence, having learned to know it, to tame it, to love it. I don't recognize it anymore. I no longer know what it is.

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This test that we survived proved to be harsh, very harsh. Too harsh?!

My stomach rounded, it made room, a lot of room. Growing from day to day. Over nine months, maybe even a little more. All this time, I caressed it, adored it, cherished it. I had the privilege of carrying life.

And then he arrived! My body changed again. My breasts gave milk, a lot of milk, and they still are at this moment while I am writing. They nourish, protect, reassure. They are the only link that I have with this little piece of myself, this magnificent little person. A person all his own.

My body is marked, nicked, completely changed. It carries the grooves of an adventure. An extraordinary journey. The one that gives life.

So, even if I often don't want to see it anymore. Even if I flee from the sight of myself in the mirror. Even if I say that I would like to get back my body from before...

I remind myself that this place is mine and it's the only one I have. It's the one that has let me experience all sorts of wonderful, extraordinary things.

I work on myself and I accept myself a little more every day. These lines are my history. They are who I am. What better way to thank my body than by giving it as much love as it has been known to give me?!

My body. My envelope. My house. Thank you.

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