my eyebrows, my legs, my breasts, my hair, my teeth, my stomach. they have all been commented on, whether a compliment or a criticism is beside the point- they are noticed, therefore brought to the forefront of the mind and eventually altered in the way they are perceived by me alone.

there's an essay and psychoanalytic theory by Lacan called "The Mirror Stage" and, essentially, between the ages of 6-18 months, a baby will notice herself in the mirror. she will make the connection that, hey, it's actually me that i'm seeing. Lacan describes this moment as "jubilant"and i can't find a better word to describe a baby looking in a mirror and grasping her image for the first time. you can never get that back. seeing your self wholly and complete and new and perfect. no judgement or exterior criticism. 

when i learned to love myself, my pain, my empathetic and sensitive heart, my stubbornness and strong-willed character, i learned to love my body. i learned to love the way my body carries me everyday; plants' itself into the earth and touches the tangible and holy creations given to us by the universe. touches the people i love. i learned to love and understand (well, not through experience, but just the very thought of) conception that is the miracle produced and nurtured and created by a woman's body. how beautiful is that?

"forgive yourself for actually loving the gentle curve of your hips. and to hell with a society which suggests you might not or should not. they herald your womanhood, the man you marry will lose himself in them, they will hoist groceries and children. they are sturdy–anchoring you firmly to this earth." -meg fee