Dear Body
I stole this idea off youtube. Look up "Dear Body" and it has the original plus all the video responses. I thought it was neat so I decided to do it myself!
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Dear Body,
I'm sorry I spent a good 12 years lamenting your existence. You and I have been united by Jesus for a reason, and instead of hugging you more often, and telling you how wonderful you really are, I berated, punched, called names, and in general hated you. So. To make up for that, here we go. . .
Brain- I'm sorry I screwed with you. I'm sorry I told such horrible lies about the rest of me to you, and I'm twice as sorry I used to believe the horrible things other people said about me. But I've been trying really hard the last year and a half to love on you and tell you wonderful things and fill you with happy thoughts and sweet thoughts. I promise we'll do better.
Hair. Oh my hair. You are such a lovely shade of red, that I've been told countless people is apparently one that can't be bought in the bottle. Yet I still permed you that one time in 8th grade. I don't know that I ever apologized for it. . . I'm sorry for that and for the 1/3 of a bottle of hair gel I piled in there everyday I wore my hair down. However, thanks for being really manageable- these last few years we've found a comfortable rhythm and I appreciate your willingness to still look nice when I try different things like cutting off 6 inches and putting red streaks in.
Eyes, oh how I love you. At the height of my depression and teenage angst you were the 2 things I felt were my only vanity. You have a lovely shape and color, which sometimes changes depending on your (my?) mood. For a few years in a row I always slabbed on a few pounds of eyeshadow, and thanks for still looking amazing when you had so many different colors on them. I wish my contacts were always comfortable with you, but I can't have all I want now can I?
Nose-y. You're there. I've accepted you. I wish you were a bit smaller but it's my dad's nose and considering how much I look like my mum, it's nice to having something like my dad.
Mouth you've had quite the life. There were the few years I thought I looked better if I didn't smile with my teeth showing, and I'm sorry for that. I had braces and you took abuse from some of the jabby wires poking out. But now my teeth are lovely and like to be shown off. I'm also sorry about that unfortunate dog bite incident a few years ago, but hey you've done a splendid job of still rockin' despite the 2 scars and the corner of the lip not fully exposed. Props for you good friend. Oh and I'll try to keep my foot out of you more often, I'll talk to him later though.
Arms thanks for helping me do stuff. If you weren't there then my hands would just be attached to my shoulders and I wouldn't get anything done. Thanks for helping me dance like a fool and for being big enough to hug groups of people at a time. I'm sorry you're not more toned- I'll work on that. Promise.
Hands I love you. I really do. The fingers aren't too long or too short, they're a perfect length. I'm glad my fingernails have started to grow a bit quicker since that makes my fingers look a bit thinner. Hands without you I couldn't do sign language which makes my heart happy, and I could hold hands with people I care about. Thanks for being there for me.
Tummy. . . I'm sorry I fill you with horrid food. I know I should eat better. . . Although I'm fairly certain you started a revolt within the last 2 years or so by rejecting dairy foods on a semi-regular occasion. I'm sorry for the years of strain I put on you with constantly throwing up. I don't blame you for rejecting dairy now- I suppose I deserve it. I promise though that someday you won't be surrounded by such thick padding all the time and we'll all be happier for it.
Legs, oh legs. I used to resent you a lot. Big thighs, chubby knees, and seemingly really short. Granted I wish you were an extra 2 inches long, although I think you would throw off the balance of the rest of me if that was the case. However I've also noticed that you look pretty dang good when paired with some 4 inch heels. Thanks for being my mode of transport for 22 years, and thanks for growing really light leg hair so it's not so incredibly frightening when I don't shave for awhile.
Feets you're not the most attractive, but I will gladly paint the toes to make them a bit prettier. In fact the soles are pretty gross normally and I'm sorry for wearing shoes that inhibit that sort of thing. I'll try to take better care of them if you promise to stop hurting when I stand for more than a few hours. Knees don't like that too much- think about the rest of us when you start hurting.
So body, I'm glad we had this talk. Again I'm sorry I've never said what I've always felt, but there it is. I hope we can be better friends now and that you'll stop rejecting dairy and stop hurting for seemingly no reason.
Love always and forever,
Ashley
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Dear Body,
I'm sorry I spent a good 12 years lamenting your existence. You and I have been united by Jesus for a reason, and instead of hugging you more often, and telling you how wonderful you really are, I berated, punched, called names, and in general hated you. So. To make up for that, here we go. . .
Brain- I'm sorry I screwed with you. I'm sorry I told such horrible lies about the rest of me to you, and I'm twice as sorry I used to believe the horrible things other people said about me. But I've been trying really hard the last year and a half to love on you and tell you wonderful things and fill you with happy thoughts and sweet thoughts. I promise we'll do better.
Hair. Oh my hair. You are such a lovely shade of red, that I've been told countless people is apparently one that can't be bought in the bottle. Yet I still permed you that one time in 8th grade. I don't know that I ever apologized for it. . . I'm sorry for that and for the 1/3 of a bottle of hair gel I piled in there everyday I wore my hair down. However, thanks for being really manageable- these last few years we've found a comfortable rhythm and I appreciate your willingness to still look nice when I try different things like cutting off 6 inches and putting red streaks in.
Eyes, oh how I love you. At the height of my depression and teenage angst you were the 2 things I felt were my only vanity. You have a lovely shape and color, which sometimes changes depending on your (my?) mood. For a few years in a row I always slabbed on a few pounds of eyeshadow, and thanks for still looking amazing when you had so many different colors on them. I wish my contacts were always comfortable with you, but I can't have all I want now can I?
Nose-y. You're there. I've accepted you. I wish you were a bit smaller but it's my dad's nose and considering how much I look like my mum, it's nice to having something like my dad.
Mouth you've had quite the life. There were the few years I thought I looked better if I didn't smile with my teeth showing, and I'm sorry for that. I had braces and you took abuse from some of the jabby wires poking out. But now my teeth are lovely and like to be shown off. I'm also sorry about that unfortunate dog bite incident a few years ago, but hey you've done a splendid job of still rockin' despite the 2 scars and the corner of the lip not fully exposed. Props for you good friend. Oh and I'll try to keep my foot out of you more often, I'll talk to him later though.
Arms thanks for helping me do stuff. If you weren't there then my hands would just be attached to my shoulders and I wouldn't get anything done. Thanks for helping me dance like a fool and for being big enough to hug groups of people at a time. I'm sorry you're not more toned- I'll work on that. Promise.
Hands I love you. I really do. The fingers aren't too long or too short, they're a perfect length. I'm glad my fingernails have started to grow a bit quicker since that makes my fingers look a bit thinner. Hands without you I couldn't do sign language which makes my heart happy, and I could hold hands with people I care about. Thanks for being there for me.
Tummy. . . I'm sorry I fill you with horrid food. I know I should eat better. . . Although I'm fairly certain you started a revolt within the last 2 years or so by rejecting dairy foods on a semi-regular occasion. I'm sorry for the years of strain I put on you with constantly throwing up. I don't blame you for rejecting dairy now- I suppose I deserve it. I promise though that someday you won't be surrounded by such thick padding all the time and we'll all be happier for it.
Legs, oh legs. I used to resent you a lot. Big thighs, chubby knees, and seemingly really short. Granted I wish you were an extra 2 inches long, although I think you would throw off the balance of the rest of me if that was the case. However I've also noticed that you look pretty dang good when paired with some 4 inch heels. Thanks for being my mode of transport for 22 years, and thanks for growing really light leg hair so it's not so incredibly frightening when I don't shave for awhile.
Feets you're not the most attractive, but I will gladly paint the toes to make them a bit prettier. In fact the soles are pretty gross normally and I'm sorry for wearing shoes that inhibit that sort of thing. I'll try to take better care of them if you promise to stop hurting when I stand for more than a few hours. Knees don't like that too much- think about the rest of us when you start hurting.
So body, I'm glad we had this talk. Again I'm sorry I've never said what I've always felt, but there it is. I hope we can be better friends now and that you'll stop rejecting dairy and stop hurting for seemingly no reason.
Love always and forever,
Ashley