For the past two years, I've been sending out a Love Letter to any sweet soul who craves a bit of free adoration in their email inbox each month. I've never published one to anybody outside of the subscriber list, but I thought I'd share this month's because it hits on something I think we've all struggled with at some point: body love.
Without further adieu, a love letter to you...
Dearest,
I was talking with a client a few weeks ago when she confessed to using 
some really nasty self talk around her body. “Get your fat ass on the 
treadmill” was one of her meanest mantras. Big self-bully. Not the way a
 girl should speak any body, let alone her own body.
Together, she and I came up with a script of much kinder words that would
 ultimately be more supportive of her goal to get in better shape.
The session with her got me thinking about how we talk to ourselves. And
 because I think all of us could probably use a little self love, this 
month’s letter is dedicated to your body.
I want you to remember why you should adore the skin you’re in. I want to remind you why you’re lovable from head to toe.
Dearest you, I love your body because of…
Your hair that, at one point or another, has served as a playground for someone’s fingers
Your eyes that not only take in the world around them, but see when someone is hurting and encourage you to reach out
 
Your ears that tune themselves
 to the needs of friends and family members, listen to laughter, sorrows
 and secrets, and sometimes lend a lobe for nibbling
Your mouth that speaks its truth and bites it tongue; that relishes the 
pleasures of a good meal or glass of wine; and that, hopefully, has 
stolen more than a few kisses over time
Your neck that holds your head up high, turns your face away from people
 who don’t deserve your time, and bends gently in the direction of those
 who do
Your shoulders that bear the 
proverbial weight of your world, but that also serve as a contact point 
for you and strangers you pass on the street—a reminder that we’re all 
in this together 
 
Your
 back that has encased that powerful backbone of yours, helping you 
stand up straight, stand up for yourself and sometimes give piggybacks 
to eager riders
Your belly that has flexed in hysterical giggles, swelled in the 
afterglow of Thanksgiving dinner, possibly protruded with the growth of a
 little one, and blessed you with more than one instinctive gut feelings
Your hips that may have been a
 cradle for lovers, a channel for children, and their own beatbox, 
bumping back and forth to your favorite songs on the dance floor, 
spreading joy with every single shake
Your knees that have supported you in everything from pulling weeds in 
your garden to praying at a mighty altar to kneeling at a humble bedside
Your feet, that have held their ground even when you wanted to run, and 
carried you through life even when you weren’t certain which step to 
take next
Your body is magnificent.
It is a work of art that chronicles every day of your life so far. Its 
scars are badges of honor. Its divots and curves, signs of growth. Its 
lines, indicators of experience.
I love it.
All of it.
I hope you do, too.
XXOO,
 


 
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