I Owe You An Apology for My Body
An intrusive and negative thought I fight every day
I love the way my hair shines in the late afternoon sunlight. I love how my hair falls on my shoulders and looks against the light blue fabric I’m wearing.
I love how the dress cinches my waist and the way it falls over my hips. I’m three inches taller in my neutral-heeled sandals, making me close to my husband’s height. I rest my right arm on his shoulder and smile because I’m usually reaching up to him. I turn toward him, tilt my head and place my left hand on my hip in the classic photo pose.
We laugh a little as we pose on our deck with our lush yard behind us and a handful of colorful plastic Adirondack chairs flanking our sides, however, it’s warm in the summer sun and we are going to be late for a dinner party.
“Ok,” I sigh. “Are you done taking photos?” I ask my thirteen year old who is messing around with my phone that I gave her to take a few photos of her parents before their date night.
We separate and my kid hands me my phone. I glance at the photos and see a dozen selfies of her before the photos of us. My dress is blue with pink and white flowers. My eyelids are covered in green, shiny…
