Because I am not the perfect bodied twenty-something I once was I am often uncomfortable in my skin and stumble in knowing how to own my sexuality.
The man I choose to give it to does not see the difference.
He sees Woman.
He sees Strength.
He sees Sensuality.
But over three decades of society’s “perfect packaged female” brainwashing at times prevents me from seeing past the cellulite, the stretch marks, the toll of gravity.
It is time to remember the ancient knowledge that sensuality is not a shape, but a force that permeates every fiber of our being. It is the roll of hips that stretch and ache in order to carry the seed of life.
Our strength is the burden we shoulder to raise the next generation to be better than we are. Strength is the framework we build to hold each other up. It is the noise we make, demanding that EVERY voice be heard.
It is time to take back our definition of Woman. There is no perfect version. We are one among our sisters, made perfect in our unity.
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