To/from my lovely body

Hi. I love you. I know that might be hard for you to hear as I rarely tell you anything kind at all. I am truly sorry about that, and I’ll course correct starting now.

When I tell you that I love you, I can feel you relax. I can feel you release the ever-present tension in your shoulders. I can feel the weight being lifted off of your chest. Oh, sweetheart. You are so lovely. I hate that I have been the source of your discomfort. I will do better. 

You have been SO GOOD to me, and I have treated you horribly. You ask for water and I give you coffee and alcohol, and somedays, no water at all. I just really hate peeing every 30 minutes, but that’s no excuse to give you what you need. You ask for veggies and fruit, and even though I love them both, I give you sugar, sugar, and sugar. I give you convenience food because meal prep and planning are not things I enjoy doing. I take you for granted every single day.

I tell you awful things. I tell you that you are ugly. I tell you that you are too big. I tell you that you are too wrinkly. I tell you that you would be better if you were smaller, toned, if your skin was clearer. But even when you were those things, I didn’t like you. 

Oh, friend. I hate that I’ve hurt you this way. I feel so much guilt over the way I’ve treated you, yet I know this guilt isn’t helpful. If I truly want to do better, I will have to work very hard. How can I love you in a way that is helpful to you? Will you tell me?

***

Hi. I love you, too. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for so long, I am so glad you’ve asked for my help. Yes, you have hurt me tremendously in the ways that you speak to me and in the ways that you fuel (or don’t fuel) me. I know you never meant to hurt me, but you did. I still love you, though, and I will do everything in my power to continue your wonderful life. There is still plenty of time to do well and feel better. However, I need you to do your part. I know you don’t want to hear this but, I am aging. If you want me to age well, you cannot continue to treat me the same as you did in your 20s and 30s. If you want to continue to perform and teach and do all of the things you love to do, I need you to treat me differently. Here are some things you can start working on now:

1. Be as kind to your physical health as you are to your mental health. You are so good at taking care of your brain, but you forget about the rest of us. However, we are one and the same. If you start taking care of me, your mental health will make even more improvements. 
2. Drink the damn water. Sorry, I shouldn’t swear at you! I take it back. Please get 64 oz of water every day. You may have to work up to it, so start small. Are you able to commit to 48 oz of water for now? I don’t mind peeing all of the time. 
3. I need you to move, really move, every day. It was easy for us when we were performing, but that isn’t happening right now. I’d love it if you could get back to 10,000 or more steps every day. Again, start small if you need to. Work up to the10,000 steps. I love walking and hiking and dancing! Will you walk me and hike me and dance me? 
4. Commit to the work. You have a tendency to get really pumped up for the first few days and then stop. If you want me to keep you healthy I need you to make me a priority and commit to my well-being. 

What if we just start there? Yes, there is more that we can do, but I know how overwhelmed you get with trying to do it all (I’m not judging you, I’m just making an observation.) Let’s start here. Let’s start slow. Baby steps are still steps. We can add more when you are ready.

Hey. Thanks for talking to me and for asking me for my opinion. I like talking to you like this. Can we keep it up?

 I love you, friend. 

***

Thank you. Thank you so much for your kind, gentle, honest, and loving response. You are so wonderful. I am so grateful for all you do; your laugh, your voice, your dance, your drive, your love for others, your caring heart. I am so lucky to have you, and I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. 

You deserve all of the goodness. I deserve all of the goodness. Let’s begin.