To My Body, An Apology

An open letter to my body, I'm sorry for being such an a**hole.

I remember being 13 years old, scrutinizing myself in the giant mirrors of my ballet studio. I remember staring coldly through a sea of black leotards, pink tights, perfect buns, and perfect bodies. I was not perfect, or flexible, or graceful. My hair missed the bun-memo. I quit ballet, but couldn't shake the hate. I spent the rest of my adolescence despising my reflection and by early adulthood I was acting upon this enmity every day. After a lot of hard work, with the support of family and friends, I am lucky to say I am in recovery from an eating disorder and self-harming behavior. While being in recovery is all fine and dandy, it doesn't mean I'm perfect. The insidious nature of addiction is that it never really disappears, you just get better at ignoring it. That being said I am far from perfect. A few weeks ago I was hurriedly showering, lathering haphazardly. With my hands diving down my legs I cringed and a persistent feeling washed over me. I hate my legs. I said to myself.

"Oh stop," I muttered to myself. Then it hit me, my body deserves a serious apology. Over the years countless insults have been dished out towards my body, sadly all of which are attributed to me. Sticks and stones my ass! My self-hatred grew more volatile with every unwarranted grumbling until the words ignited, consuming me. I hated myself, I starved myself, I cut myself. However, as the saying goes, that is my past and I don't live there anymore. I can't ever erase the years of damage, I can't erase my scars. But I can apologize, and more than that, I can promise. So you'll find below an open letter to my body, maybe you need to write your own.

Dear body,

I know this is a long time coming, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for constantly overlooking the truly remarkable things you accomplish every day. I'm sorry for neglecting you. You are a beautiful, wonderful body.

I'm sorry for the nights we went to bed hungry just to wake up and "celebrate" losing a pound or two. I'm sorry for denying you all that you need to be healthy and bright. I promise to nourish you and give you all of the things you need to be your best. I also promise to occasionally give you things we don't necessarily need, like cheese burgers and vodka.

I'm sorry for all of the terrible things I've said about you. You never deserved any of it. I'm sorry for all the verbal abuse you endured in every dressing room we occupied and especially the countless hours we spent at home in the bathroom. You didn't deserve everything I said there either. You are not ugly. You are not stupid. You are not disgusting. You are not weak. Sure you are a little squishy in some places, but that brings me to another point. Remember the time you made a human being? Yeah, that was pretty amazing of you. You are beautiful, brilliant, and lovely. I'm sorry for making you feel otherwise. I promise to TRY and use only gentle, kind words in regards to you. Shout out to my thighs, who endured the brunt of my abuse.

I'm sorry for cutting. Not only did I ignore my basic duty of protecting you, I harmed you. I'm sorry for the scars. I didn't know how to deal with overwhelming emotions. I promise to use all of my coping skills, avoid stress, and turn to my loved ones before acting in any self-destructive way.

I know that I'm not going to wake up every morning full of sunshine and roses. I know that every day in recovery is a success, but I can't expect myself to live each day in recovery. Again, I'm so sorry for what I've put you through but, I promise to try my very best at loving you each day. I love you, body! You rock. Thank you for all the blood pumping, oxygen distribution, cell renewal, digestive capabilities etc. Thank you for being the shape that you are, the color that you are, the weight that you are. You're perfect! Stay golden ponyboy.

Forever yours,

Christine Lauren