Boundlessness & Beauty: Pride in the “Effortless” Body…

I did not work for my body. I did not beat it down so that it would fit into society’s box. I did not work for my body: it worked for me.

I am proud of my body. My body has been through hell — it has been through the famine of poverty and the darkness of parental abuse. It has been through rape and attempted murder, kidnapping and seven suicide attempts. Yet it is still here. It carries on in spite of all that has happened to it. Despite every attempt to beat it down, it has continued. It may not meet your expectation, but it is the body of a warrior.

Not only is it the body of a warrior, it is a wonder of creation, evidence of the Majesty of the Divine. Capable of the sacred pursuits of pleasure, meaning and kindness.

Beautiful, strong and resilient — yet it is flawed, vulnerable and ever-changing. It is not hard, like stone, but soft like the water which wears stone down. It lasts through the endless blows of rain and wind, shifting and changing, but never wearing down.

I am proud of my body in the way that I am proud of my queerness, proud of my kindness, proud of the wondering, childlike eyes through which I view the world — because they are things that the world has tried to beat down, fires that it has tried to snuff out… Yet still they burn. Still I carry them with me, unyielding and standing tall.

This body, this soul, was granted to me by the gods. It was never perfect (not even the gods really are) but it was created as it was meant to be and then shaped by life. I have been through many trials, through experiences that harrowed me and chipped away at my strength — which tested my resilience. But still, I stand. Still, I am proud.

Not proud of what my body looks like (though I embrace that tenderly, with loving hands and pleasurable experiences), but proud of what it has been through. Proud of what it has survived. I am proud of what my body can do, what it has done and what it will do. It is mine and I hold it dearly.

I reject the idea that we can only take pride in the shape of our bodies. I reject the idea that we can only be proud of “healthy” bodies — for all people have the right to be proud of what their bodies have survived. Disabled and sick people can still be proud of their bodies, still love their forms. They do not need your permission to feel good.

Join me — take pride in the body the gods have gifted you: not for the shape it takes, but the paths it has walked and will walk in the future. Take pride in the feelings it can experience and endure. Take pride in the wars it has fought so that it could carry you through to peacetime. Take pride in its every bump and plane, dimple and scar. Every last bit of you is made of the stuff of stars.

YOU are a wonder of creation. Your shape sacred, your body evidence of the Majesty of the Divine. Your body is yours and it is the only one like it. Don’t punish it for the ways it shows bounty or famine. Don’t try to beat it into submission or shove it into society’s box.

Move in ways that move you, eat in ways that bring you fullness and joy. Have sex, eat cake, take a walk through an autumn wood — have a cup of tea as you watch the sun rise. Take joy in the sparkle of moonlight on freshly fallen snow. The world is full of beauty. You and your body are a part of that beauty.

Take pride in it.