An Open Letter to Someone Whose Body is Changing

Dear human, 

Every moment you’ve ever experienced has been in a body, but not always in the same body; your body has always been changing.

Some of the changes your body has undergone over the years were welcome, and some were unwelcome. Some changes were sudden, while others unfolded over long periods of time. Some changes were intentional, and other times beyond your control.

And somehow, when everything is added together, you’ve ended up here, in this body. This body, which, if you continue to live, will continue to change.

Perhaps you’ve been told to love your body, see its beauty, or view it as a sacred temple. While these are positive perspectives to take, I want you to know that you’re not obligated to adopt them. 

Gratitude, awe, and admiration are wonderful, but you may have very different feelings about your body, such as anger, resentment, shame, or fear.

This letter is to give you permission to feel those feelings, too. You’ve never needed my permission, but here it is anyway.

I invite you to face the body that you no longer have. The body that has been lost to time and circumstance. And I invite you to grieve for it.

When we grieve, it is to express our sense of loss. What is gone is something or someone that we cherished. For you, perhaps that is a past body. Or perhaps it is a version of you that will never be, yet is deeply meaningful all the same.

Grief does not mean that you are forgetting. Grief means acknowledging the pain and love and loss you feel.

Your truth is allowed here. 

Your fear is allowed here.

Your pain is allowed here.

Once present, pain does not need to be solved. Your pain is not a problem. It is only a response.

What comes next is another response: Care, kindness, respect, love, attention. 

And the question: What do you need?

Love, 
Alicia