You're an odd one, you know. I guess that's because you've dealt with odd old me for lo these 37 or so years, and I haven't exactly been normal, have I? We're a good fit, you and I. But I've been pretty tough on you, Body, often when you didn't deserve it.
I thought you were too big, back when I was a teenager, and oh, how I miss those days when you were deliciously curvy and svelte at the same time. You were long and sleek and flexible and, even though we hated running, you could carry me for ages. I'm sorry I inflicted cigarettes on you, not to mention the other not-so-legitimate substances that have left you with tight lungs these days. But you never gave in, Body, and I like that about you.
When we hit our twenties, you weren't quite as fit and, I'm sorry to say, the contraceptive I forced into you was largely to blame for that sudden weight gain. But you know what? You were still luscious, just on a larger scale. When I look back now, I've got to say, you went through quite the awakening and I wouldn't lose that for the world.
And then there was the time, Body, that you quite literally saved my life; you with the stab wound in the back (we still remember that pain, more than a decade later, when the muscles twinge after lying down too long), you with the bruised and battered face, the eye swelling shut, the split lip, the violation; you decided that no one was going to beat you to death and, quite literally, you took over from Brain and threw yourself upon that attacker with strength that I didn't know you possessed. You kept me alive then, Body, and for that I am eternally grateful.
Come to think of it, you've always been stronger than I expected. Remember when we took on that body-builder when we were a teen? Oh, or that other one when we were in our twenties? Silly, I know, but you didn't fail me. Maybe it was all the adrenaline.
You're pretty curvy now, Body, and I say that with great understatement. You're still fairly flexible, even though your joints creak alarmingly in the silence of the dance studio. But you make our toyboy a very happy man, especially when you put just the right amount of wiggle into our walk. You're no supermodel, and certainly no sprightly young beauty, but you've got a lot of sass yet, and I bet you're going to be headbanging for many years to come.
We're not even halfway through our life together, judging from my grandmother, and I reckon the best is yet to come!
As per Women24's Love Your Body challenge to write a love letter to our bodies