Learning to Love My Aging Body


I woke up this morning thinking about my body, my curves, soft belly and breasts, the curve of my shoulder and the bend of my knee…You see, nothing about me is sought after any longer. I have the rare good fortune to be healthy and to be aging and I’m thrilled about it. I’m thrilled by the way I can now approach people and am not seen as a threat in any way…But oh how I mourn the loss of my youthful, dewy skin, my firm breasts, Oh! How I mourn the loss of being an object of desire. I do. Right or wrong, I mourn it.
Sometimes, though, there are moments in the twilight of wakening from sleep or from deep meditation when I admire my body with incredible and deep love. The dimples in my arms are fabulous! The softness of my belly, where I carried my 4 children is made for snuggling into for comfort. My jiggly, sagging breasts are still wonderful at nourishing the desire of my husband.
Each time this twilight love seeps into my awareness, I tend it like a tiny flame in the darkness of what I’ve been taught is right and good for a woman. I gently breathe onto it, feed the driest, softest tinder, smile as the flame begins to catch and grow.
Someday I will love my body in the daylight, not just in the twilight of dreams but for now, this is good and it is enough.

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