Dear Self

For a long time, I have struggled with not liking my body-slash-appearance. I know that each one of us has a unique body, created by the Maker of the Universe. You think that would change my outlook, right? Well, I decided to write a letter to myself today about aforementioned discrepancies.

Dear Feet,

Thank you for taking me everywhere that I need to go. Thank you for forgiving me even though I don't lotion you enough and I always wear those blasted no nonsense socks, which results in your own suffocation. Thank you for not having a bunion from wearing high heels. (I'm sure you much rather prefer my usual flats now)

Dear Legs,

You take me where I need to go, as well, and I thank you for that. I'm sorry for itching you after a long day and sometimes leaving scars, especially by my ankles. Please pass along the word. Maybe let Feet know that I apologized as well. You and Feet seem to have a connection.

Dear Stomach,

I'm sorry for complaining about you so much. You are probably what I complain about the most. And really, God made you. You aren't the one responsible for the "pooch" after holiday meals, I am. I am trying to eat healthier around you. Thank you for letting me eat everything I eat. Other Stomachs reject certain foods, but not you--you take it all.

Dear Arms,

I am sorry for not lotion-ing you. I will try to be better about that. Thank you for taking all the abuse that you have gotten. You have gotten burned countless times, and as a result, white 'freckles' now rest on your shoulders. Thank you for being a nice to size--not too wimpy (I don't give you enough credit), but not too big either--I am able to lift most things that I need.

Dear Hands,

I try to keep you well trimmed (cuticles), but I end up just biting my nails. I am profusely sorry for that. It's a hard habit to break, but I will try. Thank you, Hands, for always being there. Thank you for no arthritis after typing innumerable papers. Hands, if you didn't exist, I wouldn't be able to take pictures, my lifelong dream. I will try to protect you this winter by buying better gloves and actually wearing them outside. You are very important to me, Hands.

Dear Hair,

We've been through a lot together. (4-letter word known as lice) I have tried to change you in so many ways. I have changed your appearance in color and in the way you look at first glance. I try to straighten you by applying hundreds of degrees of heat. I complain about your wave. I should just let you do what you want (to a point). I'm sorry, too, for putting you back a lot, as well. A sloppy ponytail is no way to show you off. And when I just let God does what He wants with you, it is pleasantly surprising.

Dear Face,

Thank you for being you. Thank you for being mostly acne-free even though I don't take care of you. I don't wash you regularly, but put make-up on instead. Thank you for being beautiful without make-up. Thank you for your pale complexion, it really is a nice shade as much as I complain about it. And thank you for the natural blush.

Dear Eyes,

Thank you for being a lovely shade of blue that changes color. I do wish I wouldn't hide you behind glasses. Perhaps I shall try contacts again. Thank you for still working even though I strain you a lot, because I "forgot" to turn the lights on, or just because I didn't want to stop reading in fading daylight while traveling.

Dear Ears,

Thank you for being so incredibly unique. One lobe unconnected and one connected. It is the one thing that I have always felt makes me unique. I am sorry for blasting music in you. I'm sure I have killed you a little bit while listening to my iPod.

Dear Nose,

Thank you for being there. I am rather fond of you on my face. The only time I really complain about you is during cold season, and it isn't even your fault that I have a runny nose. Thank you for the lovely freckles, reminders of my wonderful childhood.

Dear Body,

You are a temple. And its time I start treating you like such. You deserve more rest time. Instead of staying up so late, you should get beauty rest. Help me to remember to take care of you.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you.

Search me, O God, and know my heart;

test me and know my anxious thoughts.

::Psalm 139:13-18, 23::