I have always had a contentious relationship with my body. It has been the one that breaks down in fear and stress and shame. I have recklessly hurled judgment and blame at it. I have placed the weight of my worth and happiness on its back and have demanded that it bear that weight alone.
When I look in the mirror now I see a reflection built up over many years and even more layers of deliberate grace. I don’t accept my body. I haven’t resigned to it. And I don't love it unconditionally.
I am irreverently and courageously in love with my body.
That’s what love is. Or rather, sustainable, resilient, soul-stretching love. I give my body the same latitude as I do a lover. There is space to be upset or disappointed or angry and to still love it. One-sided, blind devotion is too much for a partner and too much for your body. We can’t dissolve into it and expect to be whole. We must maintain autonomy. And we must honor that separateness just as we honor that connection. We need both.