Its summer and as I strip off my sweater to let the sun bake my arms I discover something that surprises me. How soft and round my bare arms are in the reflection looking back at me? When did I loose touch with my physical appearance? Who is this person that was underneath my clothes? Well, am I surprised? This has been one of the busiest seasons of my life and in times like this my shape has typically been my absolute last priority.
Taking care of myself was either and obsession or something I felt frivolous about. How to find a healthy balance between accepting my body and forgetting about it?
Who is the woman that is wearing my skin, it doesn’t feel healthy but it doesn’t feel ugly. I like her softness but I feel like she is a stranger to me. . . Where do the curves end and the soul of this woman begin? Do I smother her under the folds of flesh to protect her or punish her. . . I honestly am not quite sure.
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