This Mindful Moment: Celebrating the Body We Live In

Some mornings, the mirror feels like a test.

The light hits just right—or just wrong—and suddenly, we’re sizing ourselves up like we’re someone else’s problem to solve.

Too soft here.

Too stretched there.

Not what it used to be. Not what it “should” be.

And goodness, it’s exhausting.

No one tells you how much work it takes to live in a body in this world—especially one that doesn’t fit the mold.

The mold keeps shifting anyway.

We chase it.

We shrink.

We hustle for worth in calorie counts and pant sizes, hoping one day it’ll feel like enough. According to the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA), chronic dieting and body dissatisfaction are among the strongest predictors of eating disorders—and they’re deeply woven into our culture.

But what if that day isn’t some far-off finish line?

What if the celebration isn’t after the change, but right here, in this breath, in this moment?

Because here’s the thing—

This body, the one you’re in right now, it’s been with you through every heartbreak, every belly laugh, every restless night and every soft sunrise.

It’s held you up when you weren’t sure you could go on.

It’s carried memories, miracles, and messes.

It is not the enemy. It is not a before-and-after. It’s your home.

And I know—really know—that loving your body doesn’t always come easy.

Some days, even acceptance feels far away.

But maybe, just maybe, we could start smaller than love.

Start with kindness.

Start with thank you.

Start with what if.

A Gentle Practice: A Mirror and a Moment

This week, try this:

Step in front of a mirror—not to check, fix, or judge.

Just to see.

Place one hand on your heart, or anywhere that feels tender.

Take a breath.

And then say, gently—like you’re talking to someone you love:

🌿 Thank you for carrying me.

🌿 I’m learning to see you differently.

🌿 You don’t have to earn my love—you already belong.

You don’t have to mean every word at first.

Just say them.

Let the kindness seep in like sunlight through the curtains.

Try it again tomorrow. And maybe the day after that.

Somewhere along the way, we were taught to believe our bodies were never enough.

But what if they were never the problem?

What if they’ve been whispering all along,

I am still here.

I am still yours.

Let’s find our way back to one another.

One breath at a time.