My body is for my pleasure

My body is for my pleasure.

That sentence took me a long (LONG) time to begin to understand, and I'm still working on it.

My body is not here for the pleasure of my partners, my boss, the person checking me out.

Sure, there may be times when they receive pleasure from looking at or feeling my body.

There may be times when I dress and move in ways so that people will be more likely to be in pleasure.

And of course, there are times when I choose to offer my body for someone else's pleasure, but that's a gift only I should be able to choose to give.

But my body is for my pleasure.

My piercings & adornments, my hairstyle, my clothes — for my pleasure.

My fat, wrinkles, and cellulite — for my pleasure.

It’s all for me. And your body is for you.

I am posting this picture for me because I like it. I like the curves, the skin, the light on my body, the hair on my legs.

As I have said many times, I can love my body without liking my body.

And while that is an ongoing inquiry for me, I do love my body — while also accepting that there are many parts of my body I do not like.

If I hold that inquiry thinking that my body is for you, then I will be in a lot of suffering because I will NEVER attain the standards of physical perfection set by our culture.

But gaining a deeper understanding that my body is for me has helped me become more and more settled in the nuances of loving and liking the parts of myself and my body.

I get to love my body for me. I get to like and not like whatever I want because it’s mine.

And in the settledness of naming what I don’t like (but still love), I notice a shift. The sharpness of the judgment that used to be there softens as it is surrounded by my love. Suddenly, the things I didn’t like in the past, or even hated, begin to become things I can see more clearly.

I begin to like my body more.