Let me tell you something personal.
Some days, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and think, “Well… that’s new.” A crease, a ripple, a scar I forgot about until it shouted at me under fluorescent lighting. As I look into the mirror, for a split second, I mourn the version of myself that never existed—the airbrushed fantasy, the unlined, unmarked, unscarred version we are promised in commercials and cursed with in comparison.
But then I breathe. And I remember:
This Body is a Miracle
Not in the clichéd, motivational-poster kind of way. But in the gritty, defiant, fiercely real way. The kind of miracle that bears stretch marks like tiger stripes, that carries the evidence of births and surgeries and years of putting one foot in front of the other. So, next time you look in a mirror, remember the miracle.
Every scar I have has something to say. Some shout survival. Some whisper, “Remember when?” And some just say, “You’re still here.”
Carried Through It All
We live in a culture that wants us to shrink, to erase, to filter and tuck and tighten. But here’s the radical truth: This body—with its creaks and curves, with its sunspots and laugh lines—has carried me. Through grief, through illness, through joy and through birth. Definitely, through burnout, and through one more Tuesday when I swore I couldn’t do another damn thing. A single look in the mirror shows a lifetime of experiences.
Evidence of a Life Lived
My stretch marks are not flaws. They are evidence. Of growth, of change, of living expansively.
My scars are not blemishes. They are bookmarks in my story. Even when you look in the mirror, these marks remind you of your journey.
My wrinkles? They’re proof that I’ve laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe and cried so deeply it shook my bones.
Radical Reverence
The world will sell you a thousand creams to “fix” what time and experience have written on your skin. But let me offer you something richer: reverence. For your body, and it’s history. For its sheer miraculousness.
Your body is not a before-and-after project. It’s not a problem to be solved. It is the home you’ve been building and renovating your whole life. When you do look in the mirror, see it as your life’s canvas.
Be kind to it.
Thank it.
Feed it like it matters. Rest it like it’s sacred. Move it because it feels good, not because shame tells you to.
You Made It
You are not behind, and you’re not failing at some invisible finish line of what a body “should” be.
Just being here, scars and all, is a win. When you look in a mirror, see it as a celebration.
❤️🤍💙~ M