Body

In the last twelve months my body has...
Recovered from flu’s and fevers, been exhausted and exhilarated, cried, laughed, and screamed. It has known the touch of a man and the embrace of good friends. It has feasted on cultural cuisines, hiked me up mountains, swam me into waterfalls, and bathed with elephants.
In the last twelve months my body has gained weight, lost weight, and gained it all back again (and then some). My body has had cuts and bruises, tan lines and pimples, stretch marks and haircuts.

I have known insecurity, but I have never been able to let it linger for too long: for the strength and resilience of my own small body never ceases to amaze me. When I think I can't hike any longer it lifts me up higher, when I think I can't run any faster it takes me further. Whatever I think I cannot overcome my body proves me wrong. And that is a beautiful thing.

I am proud of my body, and I love every inch of it. Each scar that tells a story, each stretch mark which shows growth, each pimple that comes and fades, each unruly curly hair on my head. All of this is who I am: my body is me, and I am my body. And for that I am proud. And you should be too.