Growing up I hated my "short stocky" legs. They were the furthest thing from feminine and that REALLY bothered me. As a result I tried to eat very little and stretch them out in the hopes that they would magically get thinner and longer.
My poor legs were supporting me but unfortunately I wasn't in the frame of mind to support them.
It didn't matter how hard I tried to change them...my legs were my legs. I thought they sucked. How depressing.
Fast forward 25 years.
Last week I snuck in a quick ride after Scott got home. I was all alone. The sun was positioned just so that I could perfectly see my own shadow. My heart was pounding. I caught a glimpse of my shadow and thought...
Who's legs are those?! Could they possibly be mine? I loved them, but wait...
They weren't skinny, they werent long. They were better than that! They were strong.
The very legs that I had written off years ago were stepping up to the plate.
I didn't care what they looked like or how other people saw them. They were mine. There for me. For a minute I felt foolish.
All along they were just waiting for me to embrace them.
Dear legs,
I finally get it. Thank you.
I promise if any of my daughters inherit you I will make sure that they appreciate you well before I did.
XO,
Me
