Letters to my Mind, Body, and Spirit

Body

Dear Body,
When I was younger, I used to not look at you. Each crevice and ingrown hair made me feel like some creature from Out of the Silent Planet. I can remember when you first started growing leg hair. I was so excited to start shaving as Mom did. I can still see those thin, dark hairs that I thought were so unnatural for the pretty girls to have. I begged my mom to let me shave them off you, and she finally caved. As the razor glided over my untouched, porcelain skin, I felt myself exorcize childish things and step into the ecstasy teenagerdom. At least I thought I was being a teenager. All my older friends shaved, and they seemed pretty grown-up. That's when I started to realize the ugliness of leg hair and being hairy in general.
My idea of beauty became what I saw in the magazines as I stood in line at the grocery store or the gorgeous twenty-year-olds with the long legs I'd see walking out of the mall. Negative thoughts corroded my Mind like a virus saying, "If I was as skinny as the girl in the magazine, then maybe people would notice me more." "I wish I had skin like hers. Then my life would be perfect, and I wouldn't have worried." Little did I know that those were models, and there is a thing called photoshop. And why would my life have better quality if I looked a certain way? I have issues no matter how I look.
I used to have a mindset that since I didn't look like the pretty, skinny girls in my sixth class or the magazines, I had less worth. Like beauty was the currency in a world of putrid ugliness.
But the truth is, there are more important things than being in society's "beautiful" club.
I was a middle school girl. Of course, I wasn't going to look like the ladies in the magazines. They were ten to twenty years my senior. And looking back now, I was beautiful in my age-appropriate way.
When I got to high school, I realized that maybe there is more than one form of beauty. I started to pick out beautiful things about each person I came in contact with. Maybe the anorak girl in my math class that everyone bullies for being nerdy has beauty. As I looked at her, I realized the immense beauty she held. Her eyes sparkled whenever she laughed with her friends. Oh, and I adored her nose. It was unique, and I fancied the way it came to a defined point. Lastly, her hair. It was the color of gold, and it glistened when it hit the sun. Why didn't those bullies notice those characteristics about her?
People tend to look at the flaws in others before they even consider the unique beauty they possess. Everyone has excellent characteristics. And it might not be society's form of beauty, why should a fashion magazine decide what's beautiful or not?
Should the symmetricalness of my face determine my worth?
As I started observing people, I found that I had beauty as well. For example, I liked the way my feet looked. They are so small and pale. Almost like a fairy out of a storybook. I love the way my Body started to curve like my mom's. I took pride in each arch as if they were crafted by a skilled potter. I was clay that was molded into a beautiful creation. I even appreciated the curves that were looked down upon. Like the rolls on my stomach. They were virtuous rolling hills in the countryside instead of tubs of flab materializing off my abdomen. I saw each feature on my Body as perfect. And I would speak it into existence daily to remind myself.
I even took pride in that godforsaken leg hair. I know I'm hairy for a lady, and I used to foresee that as a curse. But now I know it's a blessing. The feeling of the hair on my legs; I feel empowered because of it. When people discourage me about my hairiness, I just simply tell them, "I like it, and that's all that matters. Right?" They stand there dumbfounded for a second and then try to give some lousy excuse as to why I should shave it. I look at them and listen cordially, but in my mind, I simply laugh. Each forbidden hair follicle brings me newfound confidence I never knew I had. 
It has taken me years to get to the point of loving you. Thank you, Body, for all you have given to me. I can eat food on a night out and not feel bad about it anymore. I can produce my own kids if I want them. I will try my hardest to treat you right, but if I fail, you must know one thing. I'm finally in love with you. Each of your features is a new adventure waiting to be explored.
Yours always,
Ab