Today I am inspired by love. There is so much hatred in the world, we need to take what love we can find and hold onto it.
It all started this morning. I was standing on the escalator on my way to work when somebody tapped me on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” this nice lady started. “Your skirt is tucked into your coat.” Oh no! I gasped. But then I laughed, and thanked her sincerely. Not many people, especially not in London, would have bothered to tell me and I would have been left to look like a fool for the rest of my commute.
Why is something like this upsetting? I was wearing thick tights. My coat was just about long enough to keep my bottom concealed. All you would have really seen was an uneven pleated chiffon skirt and the top of my right thigh. MY THIGH!
I’ve always hated my legs. The rest of my body is no Victoria’s Secret model, but my legs have always been my biggest issue. The largest point of focus. The thing I rallied against the most. Poor legs, what did they ever do to me? When I think about it, they have only ever done good things for me. They allow me to walk, to run, to kick, to dance, to hop, to jump, to skip. They are strong and they are reliable. Occasionally, they may give out from under me. Sometimes, they trip over themselves. But most of the time, they are pretty damn swell. So I’m going to say, thank you. Thank you wonderful legs for being there. Thank you for taking all the abuse I threw at you and continuing to be there for me. I’m sorry I took you for granted. I’m sorry I didn’t spend more time loving you. My big thighs. My over muscly calves. My strangely rough knees. My thick ankles. I love you. I love every bit of you. You are part of me and I would be lost without you. I know that if you left me, I would be devasted and I would regret it for the rest of my life that I did not appreciate you.
So this post is for you. Thank you for not looking like a super model. Thank you for helping me to run for the tube. Thank you for all the dancing. Long may it last.