Staring in the Mirror

It's Monday morning, and I have been sitting here thinking about what to write because I feel like my brain goes blank every single time I try. There's been so much happening over the past days and weeks, and I just trying to catch my breath. It was snowing this morning quite heavily, and no suddenly sunny and calm. Oh the irony. Life is weird. 

This past weekend, I took it easy. I did the necessary stuff, took care of the kiddos and did a whole lot of thinking. I did a bit of self-reflection, and that has proven to be scary at times. After I took a shower yesterday, I went into my bedroom and just looked. Yep. I stood there naked in front of the mirror, under eyes still black from the mascara that I had on the day before, and I just stared. I asked myself what I really love about myself. This has been a struggle for me my entire life, regardless of what the scale has said. I thought about how much I love my emotional side, my intellect, the fact that I am a dreamer, that my ADHD brain has this tendency to go into a million different directions at any given moment, the notion that I am spiritual and feel deeply connected to the universe moreso now than ever before, and so much more. But something was missing in my thought process. Why am I struggling to find something about my body that I love? What is it in my thought process that causes me to feel ashamed or struggle to accept my body for what it is right now at this moment? Well, we all know that fat shaming is a huge thing in society and has been for like ever. It's funny too, because I have a similar shaped body as Marilyn Monroe, and she was known as a sex goddess decades ago. My oh my how have the times changed. 

Anyway, I kept staring at myself until I got so uncomfortable that I was able to get reconnected. I looked at my curves until I could accept them. I looked at my tender breasts that have nurtured three babies until I could love them. I looked at my hips and thighs until I could celebrate them for birthing three children into this world with their assistance. I looked at my face which has always made me feel and look younger than my age and has always caused me to feel like I wasn't taken seriously as a woman. I looked at those small, smooth, peachy lips until I remembered how gently and passionately I have kissed with them and also how often I have smiled to many with them. I looked at my cute little nose with the nose ring that I wear for my own self-expression. I looked deep into my hazel eyes until the tears began to fall. I was always told that I have gorgeous eyes. During a conversation with one of my best friends on Saturday, she told me that I have such stunning and dreamy eyes that you can't help but get lost in them and become completely and utterly mesmorized by them. And ya know what? She's right. 

Now I realize that my body isn't perfect, but then again perfection is relative. My body is absolutely perfect for me, and I hope to grow into the notion of believing that it's perfect to me as well. I'll get there. It was just such a sweet thing to be able to celebrate my physical self for once. I've come a long way. I love being able to say cheers to the various battle wounds that I have gained throughout the years. I wouldn't be who I am or where I'm at without this body. So now the hope is that I can and will keep this momentum of self-love and acceptance going. It's my hope that I won't always look to cave into the pressures of the world and her standards of what female beauty is or should be. Nah. I've got the looks. I've got the personality. I've got what it takes. And damnit, I've got the best fucking eyes ever. Fight me.