You’re pissed. I’m getting the message loud and clear — now. I’m sorry it took this long for me to finally hear you. When I look back, I can see how you were sending me clues about how unhappy you were, but I kept ignoring them. I’m sorry.
In my defense, I thought I was doing right by you. Remember how I quit dairy for you? I know, again, I should have done that many, many years before I did. I hope you understand how hard that was for me. I mean, quitting cheese? I love cheese. I put cheese on everything. Not anymore. I gave it all up for you, dear body.
Everything tasted better with cheese, by the way, so that was not an easy ask. Here’s something to consider — how about getting the tongue to recoil in disgust at all the bad foods and only love the ones that are good for us? It would make it so much easier to do the right thing by you. Just a thought.
After my divorce from cheese and just when I thought we were friends again, I blew it. I felt sorry for myself when I lost cheese and tried to self-comfort by eating more of everything else. Big mistake.
I understand, now, that mistake led to our weight gain and hormone imbalance. You tried to warn me early in more subtle ways. A few aches here and there. You were changing, but I tried not to see it. Even after you forced me to go up a pant size. I was in denial.
To get my attention, you froze my right shoulder. Slowly at first, but now you’ve frozen it enough that I struggle to get a fork to reach my mouth. I see what you did there. Clever.
Next, you blew out my right knee. I know, I know, I was the one who slipped on the ice and fell, but I could get up and walk away. Nothing broken. Shoulder jarred of course and was screaming so loud I heard nothing else over the commotion.
So why, dear body, did you decide to seize that knee up entirely a few days later? I don’t know, it just felt a little spiteful to me.
Nothing gets you to forget one body part better than hurting another body part. Got it.
Also, I think I should remind you when you punish me as you have, dear body, I cannot exercise. I can’t even go for my daily walk in nature. The brain does not like this turn of events. Being stuck inside leads to boredom and depression which leads to comfort eating. (I still have my left arm, don’t forget.) Also, the liver isn’t happy with all the extra strength Advil lately. Just sayin’.
Now here we are, weeks in, and although the knee is healing, the shoulder is not. In fact, it’s getting worse. I’m writing to you now to beg for your forgiveness. Please, can we just get along? I will promise to do better by you if you’ll do better by me.
We’ve been together for a long time. I remember it all with fondness. I’m sorry about those kickboxing years. They were a little hard on you, I know, but you never complained much back then. In fact, you seemed to thrive during those years. If I damaged you, please forgive me.
In conclusion, I just want you to know that I’m grateful to you, dear body, for carrying me for as long and as far as you have. I love you. I don’t want to lose you, not even the tiniest bit of you. Except for fat — let’s lose fat. Fat is not who we really are. Fat is an invader.
Let’s work together again. All for one and one for all. What do you say?