When I was about 19 or so, I went to a music festival called Alternative Nation. It was Australia’s answer to Lullapalooza.
Like any self-respecting music festival it was incredibly muddy due to enormous amounts of rain leading up to the day and on the actual day itself.
Towards the evening, there was a naked man, covered in mud, lurching around. People were recoiling from him in horror. He held his Earth covered hands out, palms up –
‘Don’t be scared. It’s just me.’
Now, on this particular day I may, or may not, have partaken in a small amount of LSD, but I nonetheless found this to be incredibly profound.
I’ve written before about how I feel about my body, my machine.
I’ve written before about how it’s taken 35 years to learn to love and respect thy sacred vessel. If you want to read about that stuff, it’s here.
I think I talked enough about body image and eating disorders and I don’t need to talk about that any more…..because that’s not my reality any longer.
I love the strength in my body.
I love my pins.
I love my shoulders.
I love my chin.
So, here I am.
Don’t be scared. It’s just me.