BlogHer started this thing called A Letter To My Body. I've been thinking about writing one, a letter, and linking it to the others on BlogHer from this site. I haven't done it already as I've been heavily into constructive change for the last couple months. The couple months before that I was numb. The months before that I was working in a job that took all my physical and emotional energy so that I wouldn't think about the previous six months when I cared for my mother in her home, 1893 miles from my home and family, as she passed from this life, and then lived in her house as we cleared almost 70 years of accumulated memories from the house after her death.
For those of us who have abused and watched our bodies be abused, well at least for me, writing a letter to that part of myself is beyond difficult if we do it honestly and with the real intention of communicating something to ourselves and all our parts.
My dear faithful physical self, I love you, never doubt that, ever again, and please hear me as I say, I am sorry for all things I've done to you and all the things I have allowed to happen to you. I've been learning to make peace with the past for the last couple of years... it started two years ago on my birthday when I called Donald Rumsfeld a liar and was escorted from the Senate meeting room. At that point I knew that I was strong that you were strong and that we had arrived. Finally we were whole, we were together, and everything was alright. You were so calm and steady. I was so proud of you.
I still want to officially apologize for trauma you've suffered when I starved myself, when I gorged myself, when I would scratch you until you bled, when I smoked and drank and did everything I could to hurt you, when I stayed in relationships that brought you no pleasure out of fear, when I was not aware enough to warn you to get up an leave before an assault happened, when I stayed vigilant for years at a time and worked our adrenal glands to exhaustion, when I allowed young foolish vanity to tempt fate and got us into a situation where rape occurred, when you had to suffer through needless surgery and countless tests, x-rays, injections, medications, scans, and years of inactivity when I played sick to please a mother who wanted me to be sick because of her own sickness. I am so sorry you experienced all these things. But you know what? It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't my fault. We were young, practically babies when the brutalization began and we learned to think that self-sacrifice, in a literal sense, was the norm and what we had to do and what we should do.
I want to thank you for being so resilient, for all the pleasures you have allowed me to experience. Thank you for the perfect timing of the ovulation that allowed me to become mother to the most wonderful baby in the world now grown to most wonderful young woman in the world. Thank you for becoming strong enough for me to lift my mother during her last days as I cared for her, that ability allowed me to have the time with her to truly understand forgiveness and experience love for and from her.
Thank you for coordinating fingers and developing neural paths that allow me to blog and write for hours on end without strain or tiring. Thank you for naturally guiding me away from wanting to eat things that have faces. Thank you for enjoying it when I work out. Thank you for hating being directly in the sun. Thank you for giving me that great white streak in my dark hair while I got used to graying.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. I will continue to take better care of you with each passing day in these second fifty years.
Namaste my dear old friend. Namaste.