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?