Dear Body, it is strange to write you this letter while I am only trying to reach you at the moment with food and drinks, and not too good and healthy food and drinks for that matter.
All the knowledge I have, does not seem to enable me to take care of you in the way you deserve, to nurture you back into health in the shortest possible time. I seem to have returned to the good old torturing my Self via you and therefore torturing and poisoning you. And that only to turn my self-indulging feelings of powerlessness in a strangely familiar type of control-look-alike “If we will go down the drain it will at least be me who pulled the plug of the sink to wash Me away and not the circumstances or the ones who don’t love me (anymore)”. The I – am – in – charge self-destruction attitude.
It is time to face my Self in the mirror through Your eyes instead of through my cluttered minds eye.
And then I see lovingoceans of understanding filled with enormous compassion, underneath that shadow of doubt.
You have been so enormously faithful all those years.
It is incomprehensible and goes beyond my imagination what you cared to suffer for Me and how you managed to stay more or less healthy while I was bruised, and was not brushing my teeth, not taking showers or even getting out of my clothes to sleep on the couch in stead of in my available and lovely bed, for such a long time.
All those drinks of lovely and less lovely wine I poured into you and all the sugary and savory stuff to satisfy my cravings I stuffed you with, knowingly overloading you with what was and is very hard to digest. It is a miracle you are still with me!
I thank you for bearing with me all those years and I thank you very much and the most for giving me the joy of this extremely magical experience of carrying life in me, growing towards an independent breathing and autonomous being.
And thank you for making me Feel the first time, while I did not even know I was pregnant or wanted to be. That you spoke to me in my dreams and let me draw a picture to make it clear to me that I was, indeed, Pregnant with Child.
How you forgave me little by little that I send that little non-breathing creature, that mini-man or woman, away, because my boyfriend did not want to become a father yet and I did not dare to become a mother on my own with 20.
The good which came of it is that it awoke all your senses of wanting to become pregnant again and so overruling my fears and doubts about giving the world to a child as it looked like in those days: not promising at all, no happy future,and a filthy, violent place to be. With only promising worse to come. And thats how you reached Me, and after a long long time and many many dreams, that Yes occured, yes, I was ready to conceive.
But first there was the black-out, the getting lost in you on the way. This little egg cell, confused, meeting up with the guys and getting stuck on the way, trapped into a corner, so starting to mate with spermies and mingle on the wrong spot, growing in one of your tubes in stead of the ready made palace bed for a Queen or a King to be born from. And my dreams could not reach me, You could not reach me, and doctors added to the confusion with the ‘proof’ of You being not pregnant, while We were pregnant, but in the wrong location where there would be no chance to grow into health without killing you and therefore me.
I am ever so grateful that you gave me and the father of that never born child the chance to save my life, to rush to the hospital.
Time was everything then, as it is now.
And you allowed that wonderful gentle and capable Turkish surgeon to stop the bleeding, clean you up, so you could take over all these healing processes after he stitched you up, and after all the good healthy blood we received from the husband sitting next to his wife in the hospital bed next to me, who just gave birth to their son.
We could not stop weeping but we were alive. And I learned to speak Turkish right there and then. Instantaneously.
I wont mention the rape you had to suffer many years before, because I was too naive to know the difference between saying no and SHOUTING NO – ofcourse the saying should have been enough for the lovely not so loving boy I fell for high over heels, the day before
– I could feel your struggle between not shouting and freezing and not fighting or running away.
I could not give you the command to fight him off, so we frooze together and survived.
I thank you dear body of mine, how you and I were becoming friends again, slowly but steady, and little by little could start enjoying ourselves again and grey sex turned into love making of the best kind ever.
The incredible Joy and Pleasure and Fun and Ecstasy I experienced through You for years to come was the greatest gift after the birth of my son.
You made it happen, you allowed me to break free of all those boundaries, self inflicted scars or scar tissue due to others, and never, beyond my greatest imagination I could have thought it possible to enjoy life and Me and You and other beings in bodies so much.
That you would overcome all those injuries and mistreatment that well, is amazing, and although all the memories of bad, sad and hurtful things are collected in all of your cells, I can in a split second have access to your and mine Bodily Knowledge of Love, Pleasure and Fun and experience all of it on the spot as time loses its meaning and Then and Now become one in You and Me.
You learned me all about love, intimacy and connection, about sharing lust and love and loosing track of where the other begins and the I and You start, and I thank you for that!
I pledge to caress you each shower I take, each ointment I provide, and will look for healthy food and drink when available.
PS: and that right now my Achilles, your Achilles, our Achilles is inflamed and running is out of the question, is only one more reason to take You serious and take It SLOW
This love letter was written and posted inspired by SheLoves / Magazine