Lesson learned today: There’s beauty to be found in my (formerly) pretty good body.
I’m at the gym, hiding behind a towel as I wiggle my way into my exercise bra. I pray that no one notices that my breasts have doubled in both volume and length. What I wished for in my flat chested teens, has belatedly come true, along with the added challenges of gravity.
I glance to my left and see a woman—a large woman, totally naked talking to a woman about the benefits of swimming. Here’s someone my own age experiencing unabashed comfort in her own imperfect body.
A marvelous ah-a moment! Why not celebrate who I am? I care enough to take care of myself, I will no longer hide. I will strip naked, primp and powder while chatting with whoever shares the locker next to me. I am grateful for the body I’ve been given that enables me to experience the benefits of exercise and healthful living.
I achieved Rubenesque status
by eating reubens,
living life fully, indulging to the hilt.
Fondly, I remember fondue.
The bakery, sacred to me.
I approach pie with what one
can only regard as piety.
Thank You for this ample frame,
which allowed me to
nurse a child, embrace a lover,
envelop friends with warmth,
carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Thank You for this, shall we say, “Largess,”
which makes even a wooden chair comfortable,
since I carry my own cushion on my person.
Thank You for the tincture of time and the wisdom of years,
which makes me appreciate my fullness—fully.
Now, pass the pasta.