Below is a letter written by guest blogger and true REbeL, Ashli Eickman Brehm.
During this season of gratitude, we challenge you to write a letter like this to your own body!
I woke up this morning.
Thank you for supporting my lungs. Giving them a place to breathe over night while I rested. And prepared for another day of living.
I groggily opened my eyes. When I flipped on the light switch. And looked at the dark circles under my eyes.
Thank you for giving me the ability to see the beauty of the world around me.
I washed my face. And brushed my teeth. And took notice of a little wobbly flap that has recently surface under my chin.
Thank you for giving me a neck. That holds up my head. That houses my brain. And allows me the power of creativity. And thought.
I examined the “number 11” forming between my brows. I questioned silently how much worse it will get and how quickly.
Thank you for allowing for years of expression. And laughter. And tears. And life.
I turned sideways to walk to the closet. And noticed my ever-present pouch. That may now be a permanent fixture. I patted it. Wondering if that will push it back in.
Thank you for holding babes. And food. And allowing me to laugh. From deep down inside that protruding bump.
I changed my clothes. And noticed my thighs. Gapless. I wondered if they were ever gapped. And know the answer is no.
Thank you for holding me up even when I constantly put you down. For supporting me while I exercise. For allowing be to kick back and relax. To walk outside and enjoy the fresh air in my lungs.
I walked to the kitchen to make breakfast. And my husband brought me the babe. I held out my arms. The arms I’ve wanted to appear more toned. And have caused envy of other’s perfectly etched biceps.
Thank you for letting me snuggle babies in you. And helping me wave my arms around to dance. And cheering on my favorite team.
I sat down to eat breakfast with my other children. Sit down on my less-firm than society wants it to be bum.
Thank you for letting me have a place to sit.
I looked down at my feet resting beneath the breakfast table. My long, skinny toes. That don’t look like everyone else’s.
Thank you for giving me the strength to walk away when need-be. To walk anywhere I please.
I kissed my children good-bye for the day. And I thought about how soft and young their skin feels. In comparison to mine.
And I have to remind myself to tell you, thank you for my strong heart. That allows me to love fully.
Thank you, body. For giving my soul a home, day in an day out. Even when I curse you. When I put you down. When I am disloyal. And when I forget to thank you for all of the moments you make possible. When the first thoughts I have about you, towards you, start negative. When I have a million things I say about you that bring you down before I remember to say thank you.
Thank you, body. Because even though I’m constantly inclined to pick you apart, you pick me up, every moment. And allow me to be.
Thank you, body.