The squish

I have it, you have it, we all have it. Somewhere on our person there is a place or places we do not really appreciate. Does the squish take up space not only on your outside but your inside too? Man or woman, older or younger (and getting disturbingly younger yet) we all deal with it.

Why did it become shameful or embarrassing to be a normal human, with a normal human body. Why did beauty become so narrow, something owned naturally by a tiny percentage of the population of this planet. Airbrushed and photo-shopped for the rest of humanity.

Beauty is a joyful smile, a pair of particularly fine eyes. Confidence, humor, laughter, intelligence. Skin that crinkles with an expression of love. Softness, kindness, service. Beauty is hands that reach out to hold and arms to hug. Strength of character, of heart  and body. There is, in reality, no single definition of beauty. It is in the eye of the beholder. In the eyes of someone who loves you.

Does that follow though that we should not mind the squish, even embrace it? My personal opinion is YES. We are who we are, my body is the only one I have and it has been around the block a time or two.

I have a very wise friend who said when she thinks about her body she is grateful. Grateful for the strength she does have. Grateful for the parts that do work. She sees her body as a tool, to use and be used as SHE sees fit. She has grown, given birth to new life, had the ability to feed and care for that life. She has helped to run businesses in the middle of raising her family. She has done bike races, her legs have carried her as she walked in several countries around the world.

There is a growing revolution of women and men who refuse to let the few in world and their skewed opinions tell them that, as they are, they are not good enough. My wise friend has respect for this creation that has allowed her to do so much.

I think that Respect is a big part of the answer. If I woke up in the morning and looked at my self with respect, I would see the wrinkles that are creeping in around my eyes and smile as a badge of honor. I would see the marks on my body from my children as something that I am proud of. Bodies are amazing, look what they are capable of doing!

In the name of respect, I would feed this tool that carries me around with clean, good food. I’d hydrate it, exercise it, make sure that all the parts were in working order. I’d fix it when broken and lay it down when it needed to rest. I would look at it, see the passage of time, how much I’ve used it, relied on it, abused it and cared for it. And, I would be grateful to have made it for as long as I have.

I’d recognize that even if its not as shiny as it used to be and looks a little different,  It is still going and doing and, at it’s worst, at least it’s still breathing AND THAT IS GOOD ENOUGH.

Truth – My squish and I are still coming to terms with each other.

Reality – I am getting out of my body what I put into it.

Goal –  When I look in the mirror I love and appreciate what I see.

The squish or lack there of is not what defines beauty. You and I, we define our own beautiful.

– Apria

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