Dear Body

A post about releasing our bodies from silence and healing through listening to the messages they hold!

Dear Reader,

By now, you know words are my safe space. They often flow easily through my fingertips.

But in a piece written so deeply about silence, words were hard.

I found myself searching for my voice, unable to find it until I came back to my breath, back to my body.

And ya’ll just like that, my words soared back; shooting messages out my finger tips, like carrier pigeons swooping in.

This series of events was only fitting for a poem written about the strength my body harnesses when she is released from silence.

Wow, wow, wow… I have chills and I’m so grateful for the opportunity to step into such realization through writing this poem/letter. Huge shout out to For Women Who Roar and founder Megan Febuary for starting the #dearbodydecember challenge.

Here is my poetic letter to my home, the flesh that gives me form, the eyes that stare back at my in the mirror and the hands that keep me company.

Dear Body,

You harness

hidden stories.

They live deep

within your folds.



beneath freckles.





You are a fortress

of secrets,


to be heard.

Dear Body,

You have been silenced.

Your voice


over the roar

of others.

I owe you,

An Apology,

for every voice

I’ve ranked

above your own.

For every,

“I need you”

quietly forced

inside you.

For every Doctor

who placed a finger

to their lips,

and normalized

your pain.

Dear Body,

for so long,

I let silence

shape our relationship.

Your screams scared me.

So pretended

I could not hear,

and ran, deep within my mind.

Muddling your messages

with webbed words.

But you have grown



and wilder.

You no longer allow me

to pretend.

You are speaking,

and you deserve to be heard.

Dear Body,

I am listening.

As you call out for me

to hear

our pain,

we remember,

and heal together.

As you plead for me

to stop,

say no,

get up,

walk away,

I do

and we are rewarded

with pleasure

where pain once lived.

As our feet pound

the dance floor

I hear the roar

and power within you.

As our hands caress

the topographic map

on our inner thighs

I recall the love

and acceptance

that flooded through you

the day we found

our first stretch mark.

As our arms wrap tight

around you

I remember

how much you need

to be touched.

As our feet climb high

into mountain ranges

I realize

the resounding team

we have become.

Dear Body,

thank you,

for continuing to shout,

when I silenced you.

thank you,

for making me hear,

our pain,

our joy

and most importantly,

our power.

There is always so much more to say, but I’ll leave it here.

May you all write letters to your own bodies, may you know that these letters do not have to look like mine, sound like mine, or feel like mine. Whatever you write, however you write it, will be absolutely beautiful.

May we harness our magic, our own authenticity, and our own unique existence with pride, love and joy.

With love,