Start by ignoring your body. You've had 32 years to hate it. Abuse it. Purge it. Never mind that it's been a workhorse. Carried your weight. Brought you the pleasure of lust and dance and tried to protect you from pain. Bore your son and wore the scar with love.
Ignore it. Pass it by in the mirror. Shy away from it. Refuse to look at it with the light on.
Try to live without it. In your head. Pretend it doesn't exist. La la la la. "I can't hear you!"
When you've had enough of that, apologize. Tell your body you're sorry. You were young. Foolish. You couldn't see the beauty in imperfection. Take hold of your strong calf. Feel the muscles underneath-the smooth line of sinew running from ankle to knee built from daily dogmatic running.
Comfort your tummy. She deserves it. She's been through so much. Lost the shape of her navel. Once a peach. Now a pit. She is a pillow--your son's soft place to land.
Run your fingers over your cheeks. Feel the delicate lines forming around your mouth. How the skin, once so smooth is turning rough. Recognize that you are getting older and you're not a child any longer. You don't have to ask permission to live.
You be nice, now. Run a hot shower. Make it so hot you can't get in for a minute. Dip a toe in. Then a foot. Then an ankle. Till you can stand it. Then get in and sweat. When you're good and red like a plum about to burst, rub yourself down with sea scrub scraping away all the deadness until you are new again. Rinse off. Then envelop yourself in the thickest, softest, fluffiest towel money can buy and kiss yourself all over. All the places you can reach, at least. If you are lucky, be bold and have someone you like kiss the rest.
Try this at home:
What do you love about your body? How could you show your body that you love it?
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