10 things I love about my body – nabbed by request from Dianne Sylvan, Dancing Down the Moon
1. I love the color of my hair. My hair started going gray when I was 22. I immediately started coloring my hair. When I turned 40 I stopped coloring it. Mainly for these reasons. I was tired of the upkeep (rapid grow out to almost completely white roots), I didn’t care if men wanted dark hair, and I felt that dumping those chemicals on my body and into the earth was something I couldn’t do any more. No one was more surprised than me when I discovered that my hair? Is GORGEOUS! Silver silver silver with a few stay dark hairs that look black. Not white, not yellowed white. SILVER. It shines and glows and strangers and friends, of both genders, stop to tell me how much they love the color of my hair. And that I kept my silver hair long. They like that a lot. Women just love to touch it. Who knew?
2. The color of my eyes. Some days they are grey, some blue, and some green. Depends on the weather and what I’m wearing. And it appears my moods. I love that they do that.
3. I love my hands. My hands bring me more joy than anything else I can imagine. My hands create art. They hold books. They caress others. They can flip the bird. They love texture and textile and the sensation of touch. My hands are square, sturdy, have short nails, and the skin is getting wrinkly from washing them so much to keep them clean so they don’t get my textile work dirty. And when I look at them, they remind me of my mother’s hands. I am adopted and we don’t share blood but that isn’t the similarity. My mother and I both have capable, working hands. Hands that have lived life, healed, created, loved, mourned. And they look like it. I never want to have hands that look like I don’t even wash my own coffee cup. Goddess bless and keep my hands that they last as long as my heart.
4. I love my breasts. My perfectly sized, perfectly round (beginning to sag a bit) breasts. I have rocked them to make sure a lump was benign, they have rocked others, they are dense, and at almost 49 years old, I have to say I am very lucky in this arena.
5. My hourglass figure. A body any romance painter would love. But not Elle or 17. Nope. Womanly, shapely, curvey, have a waist, built for romance not for speed. Although I was a sprinter early in this life. Fast as the wind, over hurdles even. Not so curvy then. Time changes everthing and that included this body. After much work I finally love it. Love. Her.
6. My brain. I did a lot of damage when I was younger. Killed a lot of brain cells. And when I got sober I worked my butt off to get to a place where I could begin a monologue and remember my point a couple minutes later. But I stll have trouble with my short term memory and while that frustrates me some times, there are tools available to me. Paper, pen, computer, email. And once something makes it past my short term memory it stays. I still have a great empty spaces ready for filling. *har* And fill them I will because my brain? Can read. And does.
7. The three freckles on my right forearm in the formation of Orion, my favorite constellation seen with the naked eye.
8. My straight teeth earned as a child with braces and other dental accoutrement for 9 years. I take good care of my precious teeth, dental health is not to be sniffed at. Poor dental health can kill you. Darn, wish this country would get on with health and dental care for all. Thank you my parents. I hated those braces but glad for them now.
9. My tattoo, left bicep. The only one I will ever have that I know of. Not because I don’t want more. I do. I have plans. But I am allergic to nickle. Getting this tattoo to heal in 1992 was a nightmare. And we had to ink it twice. Still a mottled dark gray and never black as it was meant to be. The guy denied that ink had metals in it. Dumbshit. I earned this tattoo through more pain than it’s making. It is in the tribal fashion, an arm band, designed by me with points and dots, it is a faery crown. I had it done as a dedication to Her. And She calls me back when I stray, reminds me that my devotion to Her is written in my skin. I didn’t know about the Fae at the time. But they know about me. And I’m very glad about that.
10. I guess I love something this body is capable of doing. Feeling. I love that I get to feel emotions, movement, smell strawberries and the spring daphne, to taste chocolate and the perfect garlic sauce on braised chicken, the sweet and the savory, the lush and the spare. I can dance, make love, work, create. I am so glad that what this body has done, no matter what I have thrown its way, is live. Staying alive, staying alive.