My body’s story

My stretch marks. A sign of growing into womanhood, each mark no less beautiful than the one that grew before.

My scars. A permanent badge, to tell tales of where this vessel has been. What it has been through.

My acne. An alert when self care is required.

My tummy rolls. Evidence of delicious meals had, shared in the company of beautiful friends and family.

My smile lines. Engravings of each smile that has passed my lips, belly laughs echoed and laughter shared.

My burns. A gentle reminder that things are not always what they seem. Never to judge by appearance.

My grey hairs. A sign of living. To grow and mature, embrace change, and all that it comes with.

My bumpy nose. A reminder of where I come from, and those who came before me.

My calloused hands. Recognition of hard work, dedication and refusal to quit.

My freckles. Memories of days passed enjoying the sunshine

 

There is good in all that you are. There is great in all that you cannot see, for you look past the things that make you unique. The things that make you, you.

Posted by

Michaela, born in '95 Sydney, Australia. I love to try new things and write about it.

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