Would you believe, I never got undressed in front of people? Not even my own mother. I never accepted my nudity. The media has a way of destroying the real image and expectations of our bodies, so I was conditioned to believe that I was in the wrong. For my tone, stretchmarks, cellulite, scars from my skin disease and my flat ass. Had me thinking I was deformed. Researching natural remedies to rid discoloration or spending money on cosmetics for temporary fixes. Trying to commit to a 30 day squat challenge but never surpassing the first 4 days. Shopping for waist trainers, knowing they shift organs but yearning for an hourglass to shape my wide abdomen. Constantly comparing myself and wishing against everything I am not realizing I am everything I need to be. My flesh is only security for my spirit.
I now wake up everyday, naked. I view myself fully nude and begin to fall in love more and more with everything I was led to hate. My scars are testimonies to my journey. They prove that I made it and I'm still kicking it. I have been stretched, burned, stained and dented, but I'm still here and I look damn good! And that's all that matters. To hell with them unrealistic, expensive, almost unobtainable, plastic beauty standards. This here is what a woman is.....real!
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