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I love my body.
Mine is a 49 year old body, that has been through pregnancies and miscarriages, operations and illness.
All of my life shows in my body. Yet it trucks on.
I love it.
This isn't a fashionable stance. I am risking judgements of arrogance and delusion, I know that.
But it is also one of the most radical statements that you can make as a woman in the twenty-first century.
So much of our culture is based on women hating their bodies, being ashamed of them, wanting to change them.
If we all genuinely started to love our bodies, to appreciate them, then so many other things would change in our heads. Treating ourselves better would come more naturally - sleeping enough, moving about and exercising, eating well, taking quiet time - all of these simple aspects of self care come from loving our bodies.
But most of all, competition with other women - one of the major curses of our surface obsessed culture - becomes irrelevant.
I think that maybe this becomes easier as you get older - I have heard thirty-something year old friends talk of comparing themselves to other mothers in the gym in a way that makes me want to weep.
Perhaps life teaches you with hard, hard lessons, that all bodies - any body - is precious.
Some days I do get frustrated with my body - the things it cannot do, the walls of exhaustion hit that it refuses to climb. But most days I celebrate that it keeps going, it can sing and dance and chat and can take me to all places I want to go.
I love it.
Stay in your lane, love your own body, treat it well, talk to it nicely.
More and more I feel that these are the things that change the way we live.
If you enjoyed reading this then you may like my post about how business helped me with getting to a point where I love my body!