Learning to love my body

Like many girls, I spend a lot of time obsessing about all the things that are wrong with my body. One eye is higher on my face than the other. My eyes are lazy and rarely work together. My nose is too wide. My top lip is too thin. My boobs are too small. My stomach is riddled with stretch marks. My butt is too flat. My knees knock…

Sadly I could go on.

And now we’ve entered the holiday season. It starts with us stuffing our face full of turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie (yum! pumpkin pie!) on Thanksgiving and continues through Christmas cookies, Christmas dinner, more pumpkin pie (yum! pumpkin pie!) to glasses bottles of champagne on New Year’s Eve. And then on New Year’s Day we resolve to take off these extra pounds with exercise and diet. And by January 3rd we’ve already chosen to ignore that resolution completely.

This year I’m just going to skip all that. I’m going to eat whatever I want to. I’m going to resolve to do fun things I know I can actually accomplish, like drink more wine. And I’m going to ignore my inner voice and instead learn to love my body.

So here is a list of things I love about my body.

I’m tall which means I can see over all the short people.

I have long arms so I can reach things on the top shelf. Without a step stool.

I have long legs which apparently guys think are sexy. And I’ve found more stores that carry 36 inch inseams. Rock on.

I love my auburn hair. It’s unique. And it’s almost like a hologram. Depending on the light it’s either red. Or brown. In high school one of the foreign exchange students actually tried to dye her hair my hair color. Talk about flattering.

I love my hazel eyes. Another hologram. Depending on the light, what I’m wearing, the angle you look at them, whatever…they are either green. Or brown. Plus they are the same color as Lee’s. So we match.

My boobs are small. So I sometimes feel like a pubescent boy, but at least I can go for a jog without having to tape those puppies down.

I have stretch marks on my tummy. My bikini days may be over (at least until I can convince Caleb’s plastic surgeon to give my belly a little tuck for a helluva price) but my stretch marks are little marks of love for the four children I carried. (Ok, I’m still learning to love the stretch marks, but it sounded good didn’t it?)

So what do you love about your body?

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