about bodies…*

by shadymama

 i.will.not.reside in the land of self-loathing that was conjured, conquered, chartered by the glossy ad execs of the slick-ass money making machines clogging our airwaves, our printing presses, our collective consciousness.  my feet are

planted firmly

in the land of mirrors left un-distorted and true to the beauty

that is woman.

but, oh, the journey to this land of self-love and joyous acceptance has been arduous at best, left me exhausted, narrow eyed and starved, fueling bodily hatred with bodily denial, at worst.  some days (most days.  all days?)  i wished myself less.  wished myself smaller.  wished myself insubstantial, lacking, flighty and without gravity.  because, what right,

as woman,

do i have to take up space?  what right,

as woman,

do i have to claim the air around me, the earth beneath me, the sky above me?  to overstep the boundaries nailed in place by the false and fanciful beauty, the definition of which lies more in what is not there, than in what is.  what right?  

only a birthright. 

a testament to the power that is a body that conjures life out of the thin air of love made tangible, out of warm blood and the quiet pulse of heart.  a body that bleeds and breathes.  a body that births, pushes hot.steaming.life into a cold metallic world.  a body nourishing a body, sustaining. 

i have arrived on these shores of beauty untampered,

beauty truly beautiful.

and it is quiet here.  only the self-contented hum that is true love.  it is quiet here and there is

plenty of space to share.


-go ahead-

i think…no,
i know
i look
infinitely more gorgeous
when i am wearing
as opposed to
when i am wearing
some thing
(even my sexy butt pants
favorite grey tee –
a shirt so soft
like nothing).
when i am
all of my
is proud
and jiggling
joyously in the breeze.
my breasts hang,
my hips are wide
and life-giving
to two sturdy legs.
my ass is ample,
my arms strong,
my neck graceful,
my tattoos clothing me
in self love and expression and


can touch me.
unless i say so.
you can touch me


*this post appeared previously, in slightly different form, at hipmama.com