Well hello! So, let’s see what you look like today shall we?! I’m looking at you in the mirror and I see some good points and I also see my flaws and imperfections. The same thing everyday. I can now memorise where every freckle is and I always pay homage to that small birth mark on my hip. Also I admire - wait, how did I get that bruise?! That’s number 7 on my list of bruises. I thought the Vitamin K was taking care of that problem for me?! Maybe something I need to mention to my doctors about.
Where was I?...Ah yes!
It’s safe to say that I have a very long love/hate relationship with you, would you agree?
Some days I look at you and think “Not too bad girl, I feel confident to wear shorts and a crop top today!”
Some days I look at you and think “Why have I been given this body that just wobbles every time I walk somewhere?!” That’s a good example to you of our relationship over the last few years.
You have given me one life long battle however - Cystic Fibrosis. Yes, it’s a genetic illness which I didn’t want, but it’s with me, me and you have had to accept that. You’ve given me crappy veins when I needed them most, you’ve taken on every side effect my medication can give me that have made me sometimes a little pissed off. But let's put all the blame on the medication on that one, possibly the doctors who prescribed said medication to me.
Why do you let the steroids and insulin give me a podgy belly? You could have your say you know? You could tell the steroid side effects to do one and leave my belly alone. Those side effects are a serious pain in the bum. But it could also possibly be to do with that I have a love affair with bacon and the odd glass of rose or three...
Why do you leave little white crystals on my forehead when I sweat in the summer? Just shake my head I can easily cover some body's chips in salt.
*Sigh*
However, I do have to apologise and say thank you to you. I’m sorry Cystic Fibrosis is destroying my body slowly but surely. Stupid genetics. But I need to say a huge thank you to you for putting up with it and fighting it when I needed you most.
I’m also sorry for criticising you some days when I’m in a foul mood.
Aside from CF, I’ve had others ridicule my body for what it is, even myself. I shouldn’t have believed and listened to those people, or myself for that matter. I’m sorry for that too.
I’ve come to realise that I should embrace the flaws and imperfections that you have given me, but let’s be honest, some days I find that hard to do. I want to have a flat tummy and not worry about the CF bloatedness that can occur sometimes. I want to not notice my thighs wobble as I walk down the high street in a skirt or pair of shorts.
But one thing I do good by you is exercising. Not just because it helps my lungs, but I know that it makes you feel good as well as my own well-being. Muscles may not totally agree with me there when I’m lifting heavy weights or pulling on right resistance bands, but I’m sure they’ll understand that it’s what I need to do.
One part of my body I should congratulate you for is my feet. I do love my feet. My feet I can feel proud of and that I look after them well, not just painting my toe nails, but rubbing in foot cream every night to keep them soft. You must be happy with that, right?
I need to let my brain work together with you to achieve my body goals for this year. Not just in terms of CF, but fitness goals too. Brain, you aren't as completely stupid as I make out for you to be. You got this.
I have also blamed you for not looking good for the opposite sex. But I've fully grown to accept the fact that my body will not appeal to every man I meet in a bar or just shopping in Tesco. But hopefully some day soon it will, but of course he has to be gorgeous, have a cracking personality and more importantly, make me laugh so my belly aches!
Body, what's next for you? I want people to see you more often! Wait, let's re-phrase that. I want to be able to not be as ashamed of you as I have been before and be proud of you and be proud that I will be a size 10/12 and always will be. That's ok. Really, honestly. The last time I was a single figure size (a size 6 or an 8) I was a foetus. The only single figure size I'll ever have is my shoe size.
Let’s end this letter to you, we’ll have our good days and bad days, but I’m in it for the long haul with you. I’ll look after you as best I can and make sure I do my best by you. Because together we can achieve anything and be unstoppable together! Now, let's go and fill you with a bacon sarnie!
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