Today, I will love my curves. Because I have them. Because I am them. I am the swell of the hip and belly. The meandering lines of the my waist. The voluptuous arc my chest. Even the sweet turn of my shoulders and neck. I am that never ending ride from top to bottom and back again. A labyrinth of the flesh.
Today, I will love my curves. In doing so I honor the receptive powers of my nature. The divine vulnerability and the great strength it requires.
Today, I will love my curves. Every single one of them. The ones that I have cultivated. The ones that I have shamed. Even the ones I forget exist. I will love them all. And the way they have supported me. Caressed my very being. I will own them.
Today, I will love my curves. I revel in the gravitational pull they hold. And know magic that is created in their movements. I allow myself to be seen. To let the eyes of the world find me and drink me in without shrinking in fear. To be visible. To be desirable. To be me. Wildly. Pleasurably. Totally.
Today, I will love my curves because I have not always. There were days of wishing them away. Sucking in. Praying for less while devouring a cupcake. Because I owe myself for the lack of appreciation of my ampleness. And I choose to love what is rather than pine for what is not. Today is a day of worship of the miraculous physical landscape that is my body.
