An Ode to My Thighs

Published May 17, 2011 by Fat Heffalump

Oh I have been so cruel to my thighs.

I have starved them, hidden them, exercised them into exhaustion.  I’ve beaten them, scarred them and mutilated them.  I have blamed them from every issue I’ve had in my life, from past loneliness to not being able to buy clothes.  I have loathed them simply because of their shape and size.  How much vitriol I poured towards them for being fat and jiggly.  I’ve even tried to eradicate them altogether.

How could I have done that after all they have done for me?  They have carried me for over 38 years now.  They’ve propelled me through life and held me upright. They have tolerated everything I have tried to do to minimise them, to eradicate them.  They have given me the power to lift everything from children to furniture.  They’ve cradled lovers.  They have propelled me through water, on a bicycle and around a dance floor.  They’ve fleshed out fabulous clothes, given shape to gorgeous tights, and held stockings up.  They have been part of the foundation of who I am all this time.

They have done so much for me, with almost no complaint, for my whole life.

And I’m sorry I’ve treated them so badly.

I’m sorry I didn’t recognise how beautiful and amazing they are.  That I didn’t see the beauty in their fleshiness, their solidness, their width.  Even the rolls and dimples and scars and cellulite are beautiful.  Most of all their strength and resilience is beautiful.

I’m sorry thighs.  I hope you’ll forgive me and keep on being the amazing thighs you are.

How about you?  Do you think you’ve been mean to any parts of your body?  How about apologising to them and trying to love them?

14 comments on “An Ode to My Thighs

  • I don’t judge anyone else harshly for their size, but when it comes to myself I pretty much hate and judge every inch of me. I try not to but whenever I go on the down cycle of the bipolar roller coaster ride (I am not saying this in jest–I do have bipolar disorder) then the hate comes back in and I find myself saying the same old things: disgusting fat pig, ugly, etc. It is a vicious cycle that never ends.

    • It has taken me over 50 yrs to come to accept my body. I want to urge all young people to love yourself! Don’t let the years go by with feelings of hate about your body and its parts.

      I am basically a happy fat person. I have come to realize that many people cannot understand how a fat person can be OK with being fat. How a fat person can be happy. Well, I am. And I hope that you can be happy, too.

    • That’s a common trope Faycin – expecting ourselves to live by far higher standards than we do other people.

      Start by choosing part of your body, and find things you like about it. Then write it a letter. It sounds silly, but it really does help you change your thinking.

  • I’m sorry freckles for hating you when I was a kid. It didn’t help that everyone else liked to tease me about you, but still, that’s no excuse for me hating you the way that I did. I have to say, though, that over the years I have grown to love you, and I love how unique you make me. My husband also loves you, and he has been trying for five and a half years to kiss every single one of you, so I hope you’re feeling the love you so truly deserve.

  • dear upper arms,
    I have treated you like absolute shit most of your life. I cover you up even when it is BOILING outside, and I am ashamed of you sometimes even to this day. But you are amazing! You hug people, you pick up cute puppies and kids, you allowed me to be an excellent volleyball setter, you toss around hay bales, and you’re all-around awesome. I’ll try better, I promise.

  • Belly. Sweet, soft belly who keeps in my organs and digests my food and will one day carry and grow my babies, god willing. Strong, muscular belly who lets me ride horses and get up off my back and walk upright.

    I’m sorry I stood in front of the mirror when I was 11 and thin as a reed and punched you as hard as I could, over and over, because I hated you. I am sorry I shouted at you, hurt you and hated you, pinched you and hit you and tried to make you go away.

    I’m sorry I never let you have a sex life and be touched by lovers for fear that you’d disgust them, or that my own alienation of you would make it feel weird.

    I’m sorry I starved you, I’m sorry I never listened to you, and I’m sorry for not loving you.

    You’ve been very good about it.

  • Well in the past I have punched myself in the legs and belly and even at times treated other body parts roughly in my anger at such a large body. However in a new phase of my life now I do try to hnour each and every skin fold, belly roll, soft, droopy breasts that have hugged, fed and comforted five children and a husband.
    I ha vveery soft and smooth skin that some people tell me is lovely:)
    I wash and pamper my body as well as I can, so that it makes me feel well.
    I love my green eyes and dark curly hair. All things I used to hate.

    I do aplogise for beating up on you body of Jan, but I do love you now and want to also thanks Kath for raising this special issue.

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