Day 8: Something you hate about yourself.
The tummy. Actually we have a kind of love-hate thing going. I love it when it’s full. Hate it that it feels the need to tell everybody when it’s full. And too many times it tells that lie even when it’s not.
I love it that it’s soft, probably the softest most blemish free expanse of skin on my body and hate it that it’s soft because I want some muscle definition, dangit, if and before the babies come.
I love it lathered in shea butter, in silver jewelry, and when I’m undulating in belly dance. My stomach is very much female: strong and soft at the same time and even when it lets my back do work it should be doing, like in plank position or on the Roman Chair, it’s just compromising like we girls do all the time. That’s probably why we have the relationship we do.