Sharing poetry and feminist thought

Archive for July, 2014

Perfect

I lie here looking at the body that has given me so much pleasure and pain
My breasts once firm and perky, now deflated and sad
My enviable flat stomach now lies next to me, soft and tender
There is an odd shaped crevice that once housed a very sexy belly button
And my most exquisite bit scarred with a line connecting two points of a perfect triangle

Yet, I cannot be more proud of the pieces of me that created life, nourished it, and brought into this world

The imperfections evident as I look in the mirror at my naked body

The bumps
The curves
The visible and invisible scars
The loose saggy parts that once were so firm you could bounce a quarter off of them

They are the not-so-subtle reminders of the little miracles created from a bond of love

Eternally grateful for the man who loves and is still aroused by the body lying next to him each night, never once letting on that he may long for the body that used to be

Eternally grateful for the three amazing children who see me as their beautiful mother, even on days when I fall just a little short of perfection

The connection and love I feel, as they bury their faces in my neck in each embrace, knowing that my scent alone is comfort to them all

Bombarded by the images every day of what the ideal is

Making a conscientious decision to love this magnificent body that has blessed me with a life that I could have never imagined and much to my surprise, multi-orgasmic

Loving myself as I am and not allowing myself to be assaulted by the non-existent perfection that the world wants me to believe

I am beautiful
I am powerful
I am amazing
I am glorious

Not in spite of, but because of, the perfect imperfections