To my marked up, pale, beautiful body,

You are never given enough credit or complimented enough for how incredibly beautiful you are. Every day, in front of the mirror, my eyes look at you in disgust. The eyes notice the stretch marks hidden under the waistband of my favorite jeans, the bumps that cover my arms, the rosy cheeks hidden under all the makeup and bulges of skin here and there.

Stretch marks are from the body growing; many people have them and they are nothing to be ashamed about, yet we find ways to hide them anyway. The bumps on my arms are most likely not noticeable to others, but they cause me to feel self conscious. Rosy cheeks are a sign of being healthy, but due to bullying I see them as a sign of being ugly.

Whether it is crooked teeth, a lazy eye, acne, being too skinny, too muscular, too tall, or too short, everyone has some part of their body that they dislike. Every day I catch myself looking at you and thinking, "Wow, I would look so much better if only my stomach was a little smaller" or "I hate my hips."

Pinterest is full of workouts to create an hourglass figure or to help the butt stay rounder. There are diet pills and magazines promoting exercise that my eyes catch on my way through the supermarket every week. I want to better you, body, I really do. But, I feel that I want to better you to be seen as more attractive rather than to keep you healthy. It seems that the health aspect often slips the mind.

I am guilty of trying to make you better, but not in the right ways. But don't feel alone, I am sure everyone is guilty of disliking some part of their body as well. You are not as ugly as I have made you sound. I know I look at you with judgmental eyes and I pull at the areas of you I am not fond of, and I am sorry. Over time I have realized that society is attempting to tell women how they should look and just because I don't fall into what society wants, it doesn't make me ugly; instead, it makes society ugly.

You are everything to me. Without you I would not be who I am today or even look remotely the same. I would be a soul, fluttering around the universe with no body to care for. I am sorry that I have not cared enough for you. I am sorry that when I look at you I see disgust rather than beauty. I am sorry that I have starved you, fed you with poison, and fed you with too many sweets. I am sorry that I haven't been more thankful to have you or more confident in you. From now on I am going to try my hardest to see you for being beautiful.

You are what makes me, me.

So, will you listen to my quivering voice as I pour out my love to you on paper? Will you forgive me? I've wasted far too many years wishing that you were different and it's gotten me nowhere. You were given to me. No, you were entrusted to me as an earthy vessel. I love you, dear body, I want you, dear body, and I accept you, dear body.