So I've spent a lot of my life not liking my body. I suspect I'm no different than most women this way, not counting Kim Kardashian who CANNOT stop taking selfies and putting them out there for all of us to see WAY MORE of that body than we ever wanted to see.
But that's not the point.
The point is that I've always felt like I was too something-or-other. Mostly too stumpy, I guess. I don't want to engage in too much Public Therapy here, but the fact that TRQ was always a tall drink of water didn't help.
Anyway. Yesterday I washed sheets and put them outside to dry because I love doing that in the summer. And when I gathered them up last night, I hugged them to my chest and buried my nose in them and just drowned myself in the smell of sun and air and leaf and then I hugged the sheets some more because I loved them so much. And suddenly I loved this old body that could smell the scent of outside-ness on clean cotton.
Thank you, Body! I'm sorry for all the years I've called you names. Although, frankly, I'll probably call you those names again when the mood hits.