Aha.
So, I stumbled upon a recent pic of Halle Berry rockin’ a black, midriff baring dress, and I wanted to wallow in depression. Coz she’s fucking in her 40s and more fit than I can ever hope to be. Goddamn.
But I looked at pictures of myself, age 21, long, silky haired (from rebonding), projecting sexyface but being DEEPLY insecure and totally un-sexual. 5 years later, I chopped my thick, wavy, unsilky locks into a sassy pixie cut, live in a country that doesn’t nitpick at my body endlessly, and hey, I’m rather satisfied with my fleshy thighs and ass clawed through with stretch marks. Textured, a story, not commodified. At 21, I felt unlovable, flighty. At 26, I feel stable, rooted. Stability, for the first time in my life. Freaks me the fuck out but a little bird told me that everyone needs a little spring cleaning once in a while…
I may not look “perfect,” but I respect my body now and just chill. Be with my body. I love how regular yoga practice and bellydancing got me re-acquainted with my body…hey old friend. I am made of strong, flexible muscles. I am not weak but powerful. Anyone can look sexy, but it takes time to feel deliciously sensual. Comfortable and playfully curious with life is sensual. Luxurious. Relaxed.
Breathing easy.
