“In this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it…. You got to love it. This is flesh I’m talking about here. Flesh that needs to be loved. Feet that need to rest and to dance; backs that need support; shoulders that need arms, strong arms I’m telling you. And O my people, out yonder, hear me, they do not love your neck unnoosed and straight. So love your neck; put a hand on it, grace it, stroke it and hold it up.”
―Toni Morrison, Beloved
How have you learned to love your flesh in the face of those who despise it?
Getting a massage is my way.
It is I who learned to not accept a part of my body that for a time, when I was embarrassed that it was mine. During the growing up years, especially in high school and beginning years of college, I found that I was so concerned that I not be seen or photographed from the side of my face. I thought I detected an ugly, ungainly profile. In fact, I realize now that one time in a watercolor class I was participating in, I chose deliberately to paint the female model in a side portrait pose. Now I have told myself this story, and it is acceptable for me to expose my profile!