Embodied: Jess's Story
We continue with our new blog series, Embodied: Letters to reclaim the whole with a stunning letter to her thighs entitled “BodyHaus” from Jess, an incredible member of our Be Nourished community. Thank you a million fold, Jess, for your vulnerability, your artistry, and your courage to share your inspiring story with so many others.
This blog series is an opportunity for anyone and everyone to reclaim their most hated body part and share it with the world. We believe this is how we can create change for one another. Our hearts long to have the layer of shame seen and lifted. Our bellies, thighs, calves, and arms want to be felt and experienced. Our bodies want to be whole. And the world needs us to reclaim. If you’d like to submit your story, check out our submission guidelines. Your willingness to share your body story, your journey from belly, butt, thigh, or arm hatred to body respect, will be a gift to our community.
“As we continue listening to the stories of our bodies, we recognize Body and Earth as home”
I remember falling asleep some nights when I was a teenager, playing a game where I would make a Top 5 List called “Things I would change about my physical appearance”. Easy number one was my legs. I was devastated that they were so clearly disproportionate to my willowy torso and neck. I was sure that my factual awkward body was due solely to my short, thick thighs. And as this view of myself hung around, it calcified in me, it was Real. You, thighs, were undisputedly too big. I held that mirror up to you and against you, seethed regret at you, twisted and arched in the mirror to render an appearance that I could find peace in, even for a second. I didn’t know I stored so much pain in you, sweet legs, until you shrunk one month. Life circumstances would have it, at 22, that my body rather suddenly took up less space. The relief, oh my lord, the possibility of occupying a body that I was able to love was euphoric. It was addictive.
Love is a wellspring in us all.
Love is a washer of us.
This morning I unwound the sheets from my bare legs and stretching them to the ceiling, I felt them vibrate and shudder awake, and I noticed in the grey light the exquisite curves of shadow and light that silkened down from my ankle bones over my calves to my moon dimpled knees, into my powerful quadriceps and finally reaching my lucky lady hips that can ride a rhythm like rain rides a window pane. I was grateful for these pieces of me. They are teaching me to move in this day by the grace of Love and the thrill of taking up as much goddamned sacred space as far and wide as these hips will swing.