I stand in front of the full length mirror, naked.
I breathe in, deeply – the breath I’ve not allowed myself all day.
I caress the swell of my belly, the rough cellulite on my butt and thighs, my hairy arms and legs.
I trace each scar – seen and unseen, each memory. And I remember what a wonder, what an incredible coincidence of luck and fate and tears it is, that exactly I exist. That I am. Still am.
And I pass no judgement. I just breathe. And touch. And am.