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Turning it around

Today started as a bad body image day.

I felt it with my feet hitting the floor as I got out of bed.

Wanted to cry as I pulled my leggings on. Felt them squeeze my thighs and belly, and inch over weight I have gained. (Yes, I’ve gained pandemic weight, and logical me KNOWS that’s ok).

Launched an internal verbal attack on my fine lines, wrinkles, sun damage, thin lips.

Then I walked to the mirror to take this picture, to document that even when you feel good about yourself and how you look, bad days happen.

I took the picture, disgusted.

Then I put my phone down, looked at myself, and said out loud:

“Stop”. I felt tears sting, and let them fall.

Then looked at a belly that grew and birthed my babies.

Thighs that have carried me through the depths of abusive hell into the light of freedom.

Skin weathered from years of living, a life I’m blessed to have.

Then my shoulders relaxed and I smiled.

I am beautiful, I am strong, I am worth loving.

I have a body that shows life, and I love everything about it.

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