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A beautiful body

I have a beautiful body.
An unexpected statement from
a full-figured, curvaceous girl.
But let’s try it on for size.
I understand the weight of memory,
and in my family, size matters!

It was established in school -
You’re a fatty boom-bah! -
that thin is in. I was six,
and much more interested in books,
than mindful of my looks.
I have always understood
that it is preferable
to be capable, intelligent,
than condescend to mere appearances.

My father learned his lesson
on looks at 34. A heart transplant
saved his life, but laid his body
to waste. Some strangers would point
and stare at his morbid obesity -
murmuring of the disgrace, his laziness -
never knowing of the terrible medication.
Steroids and cyclosporine experimentation;
just witnessing an after-effect
of his body’s annihilation,
deteriorating from a welder’s strength,
to a frail man gasping for breath.
That’s a weighted memory
I don’t wish on anyone.

Then there was my Grandma.
A stoic farmer, who combined
strength with maternal elegance.
Her body destroyed by strokes,
something that perversely seems to mingle
atrophy with the indignity of shingles.
She could not even speak,
became inclined to moan and weep,
reminding me once again that bodies
are nothing next to disease;
they can only crack, collapse and bleed.

Never has this creed seemed more true
than as I ponder what to do for my Mum.
A loving and gentle parent, now facing
her own kick to the head deterioration.
. . . Just a passing reference to Parkinson’s,
a terrible waste of her body
as it succumbs to shaking and
central nervous system desecration.

So when I can confidently assert
I have a beautiful body.
part of it is attitude:
I have a cheeky smile;
I repudiate labels and guile.
With an easy-going stride
I am drawn to better people,
greater places, which abide.

When I look at people
I offer warmth and compassion.
Such things mean a lot more
than skinny jeans,
the width of my chest,
or how much I might
holler and jest.

With my arms upraised,
I used to pretend I was a tree.
Nowadays I let that be a symbol;
I am carefree, happy to be me.
Whatever shape or size you might see,
I know what type of person I want to be.
Beautiful, inside and out,
because that is the measure
of all the people I care about.

A beautiful body

msdebbie

Joined March 2009

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 34

Artist's Description

This song best captures my thought process on body image P!nk’s – F@#&!n Perfect
Made a wrong turn once or twice
Dug my way out, blood and fire
Bad decisions, that’s alright
Welcome to my silly life

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood
Miss ‘No way, it’s all good’
It didn’t slow me down.
Mistaken, always second guessing
Underestimated, look I’m still around

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you’re fucking perfect to me

You’re so mean when you talk
About yourself. You were wrong.
Change the voices in your head
Make them like you instead.

So complicated,
Look happy, You’ll make it!
Filled with so much hatred
Such a tired game
It’s enough, I’ve done all I could think of
Chased down all my demons
I’ve seen you do the same
(ohh ohhhhhhh)

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you’re fucking perfect to me

The whole world’s scared, so I swallow the fear
The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer
So cool in line and we try try try but we try too hard
And it’s a waste of my time.
Done looking for the critics, cause they’re everywhere
They don’t like my jeans, they don’t get my hair
Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time
Why do we do that, why do I do that (why do I do that)?

Pretty, pretty, pretty

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing than you’re fucking perfect to me
(you’re perfect, you’re perfect)
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you’re fucking perfect to me

Artwork Comments

  • ShadowDancer
  • msdebbie
  • Lisa  Jewell
  • msdebbie
  • ClaireJane
  • msdebbie
  • Marg Thomson Photography
  • msdebbie
  • waterbug
  • msdebbie
  • SimplyRed
  • msdebbie
  • CreativeKitty
  • msdebbie
  • SimplyRed
  • msdebbie
  • Arcadia Tempest
  • msdebbie
  • Jenifer DeBellis
  • msdebbie
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