My kids can look at this picture and attest to the fact that it's true. Over the last 18-20 years it's been a love/hate relationship with me and my body. I was in my thirties when I started to feel comfortable in my own skin. When I took stock of my friends and family, I realized that women are strong and soft. We are healers...of boo-boos and of broken spirits. We are confidantes and cheerleaders. We are at times our own worst enemies. I realized that if all women fought FOR one another and not against each other, we would be such a force for good! We are constantly being told how to look. How to get the perfectly cellulite-free legs.....tight toned abs...firmer breasts...clearer skin...longer, fuller lashes, healthier looking tresses...it's non-stop. I'm ashamed to admit I bought into it....to an extent. Through it all, my sweet Boyd, told me every day...multiple times a day that I was beautiful -- that he loved exactly the way I was -- that he wouldn't change a thing! Why was it so hard for me to believe him? So, here's the deal, I believe him, and I know that this body is a miracle-maker...it grew and birthed three beautiful human beings, who couldn't love me more. They don't look at me and see the imperfections...they see mom. So, I'm going to be kinder to myself, eat right and exercise and know that I'm beautiful.
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