Letter to My Body

Dear Body,

I’ve always hated you.

I’m sure that doesn’t come as a surprise seeing as how poorly I’ve treated you all these years. From a very, very young age I knew you weren’t up to snuff. Everything around me told me so. You were too big, like an over-stuffed suitcase I couldn’t quite close and too cumbersome to lug around. I’ve always wanted to replace you.

Remember when I was around ten and had a sleep over with our neighbor friend, Kathy, and my sister? We woke up and her mom was making us pancakes. But. . . we were on a diet and didn’t want to be “bad” so I asked Kathy to ask her mom if we could just have cereal. Her mom got really mad and thought us rude. We left crying and walked the 5 blocks back to our house very dejected. I thought I was doing the right thing by trying to eat better but then I was punished for it.

Remember that time when I had my first crush? The yearbooks came out and Vince R., the crush, wrote, “You’re one big triple stuffed Oreo.” I was convinced he meant I was fat. No wonder he didn’t like me back. Stupid fat. You have always been to blame. Who cares if he meant I was really sweet? It stung.

I’ve tried to exercise and eat right. A lot of the time, as a kid, I starved myself and worked out in secret. Then I’d lie flat on my bed on my back and touch my belly because then and only then did it feel flat. I hated you for betraying me. I hated how you kept me from fitting in. How I couldn’t wear the latest fashions from Benetton or Esprit. I hated shopping in the sections of the store for women because I was too chubby to fit into the junior section.

I’ve always been ashamed of you.

Remember when I was 22 and had finally lost all that weight? We walked and walked and walked every morning and the pounds fell off. No one knew because we were away at school and perpetually hiding in over-sized overalls. When I went home for the summer, I kept working out. That one day we were heading back from the neighborhood track and those two young boys on their bikes rode by and yelled, “You’re so fat!” and kept going. It crushed me inside. I cried all the way home. Because of two rude kids. Because here I was finally thinner and still, I could not find acceptance.

I was thin for a bit. By thin I mean I was “passing.” I could shop at regular stores. I didn’t mind being naked. I felt a false sense of confidence. Inside, no matter what I looked like on the outside, I felt like the fat girl I had always been. Men hit on me more and more and I hated them for it. I was convinced they never would have seen me when I was heavy. I started to feel too exposed. I gained the weight back.

And now I hide in it.

Remember the men who told me that they loved me and in the same breath uttered things like, “You’d be really hot if you lost weight.” Or, “I don’t know what I’d say if someone commented on your body.” Or my personal favorite, “My friends look down on me because I date you.” I was mortified. I wasn’t enough. Or I was too much of one particular thing. I wished I could trade you in as to spare me these painful situations. I wanted to be rid of you.

My whole life I have never felt comfortable in you. I’ve judged you by unattainable standards. I’ve looked down on you, demeaned you, settled for second best for you, and used you as an excuse. I have never loved you and for that, I regret. That’s 34 years of time wasted. And that? That’s a fucking shame.

I’m so sorry for never loving you. I’m trying to look at you differently now. I’m trying to heal all those old wounds that keep us separated. Maybe, hopefully, the next time I write to you the letter won’t be full of apologies.




Note To Self

Dear Self,

You’ve been a total grump the past few days. You know it. I know it. Hell, even your ego knows it. You’re losing it…and when it is lost, all you are is a loser.* So I’ve given this some thought and here are ten ways to stop the insanity as Susan Powter would say. Whatever happened to her anyhow? She used to be so popular. Her hair always scared me a little. . . Excuse me, self? Please focus. Sheesh.

1) Exercise every day. It’s the poor man’s Prozac.

2) Watch dogs play at the park. It’ll make you smile.

3) Get your Zzz’s. Not only will you look prettier, you’ll have more energy to burn.

4) Avoid sugar at all costs. I don’t care if it is free. I don’t care if it is only one mini Mr. Goodbar. I. Don’t. Care. It makes you bitchy and you are no fun bitchy.

5) Don’t drink & drown. Enjoy your libations in moderation.

6) Make out with a cute fella as often as possible. Seriously, it will perk you right up. Plus, sometimes it can count as exercise. (See #1)

7) Take time for yourself. Revel in your solitude.

8) Dance & sing whenever possible. Grocery store aisle. Apartment. Stuck in traffic. Who cares? Do it.

9) Spend time outdoors. Soon the rains and dreary grays will come. Soak up as much sun as is humanly possible right now.

10) Spend time with your nephew whenever possible. His giggle is contagious.

Let’s get a grip, shall we?



*Taken from Some Kind of Wonderful. I always wanted to be Watts.

“There goes the fairy tale./Lord, ain’t it a shame?/In all this comfort,/I can’t take the strain./If we played even,/I’d be your queen./But someone was cheatin’./And it wasn’t me./I’ve laid it on the table,/You had something back./If love is Aces,/Give me the Jack.” -If Love Is a Red Dress, Maria McKee

Love Letter (II)

‘Ello Love,

It’s been a while since I wrote. It’s not that I haven’t been thinking of you. Trust me, you are always on my mind. I carry the hope of you around in my heart. The possibility of you is present in every moment.

I have a good life. I am happy for the most part. I really can’t complain. Work is meaningful, friends are plentiful, laughs are frequent, adventures abound and, well, I’ve always got my health, right? I am grateful for the life I live. My gratitude does not diminish with the absence of you. . . it’s just that, life would go from good to great if you were here.

Sometimes when I’m cooking I’ll be dancing around to some music while chopping vegetables (always eat your vegetables!) and you are there, spinning me until we are breathless (let me put down the knife first!), until I collapse into your open arms laughing. We like to dance, particularly in the kitchen.

Or maybe I am in the car driving along and you’re there stretched out in the passenger seat, leaning over to crank up the radio when you hear a song you love. You throw your head back belting out the words. The windows are down and the sun is shining and we’re headed anywhere we please. It doesn’t matter the destination, just as long as we’re going there together.

Sometimes I am shopping at the grocery store and you show up changing it from a chore to an adventure. I spend too long in the produce section while you linger longingly over processed meats. I want special whole grain bread and you just want beer. You push the cart which you already know totally wins me over. I love you for this.

I love you for so many reasons I lose track. You are everywhere and everything. You are me. I am you. You are the first person I want to see when I wake up and the last person I want to touch before I fade into slumber. Your voice is my favorite song. You light me up just by being spazzy, sweet you.

I know we are making our way to one another. I trust that. I trust you. Patience and I are good friends now. And Faith and I have gotten close. Anticipation shows up sometimes. She’s got good energy. I just wanted you to know that I am taking care of myself while I am missing you and that I’m eager for your arrival.

Until then. . .



“You know me/You don’t mind waiting/You just can’t show me, but God I’m praying/That you’ll find me, and that you’ll see me/That you run and never tire/Desire”-Ryan Adams, Desire