We dismiss them as flaws, scorn ourselves for the imperfections, do everything we can to fight against it. Stretch marks, wrinkles, age spots, whispering gray hairs that tell a story; a story of unconditional love and sacrifice.
Wrinkles in time that cannot be easily erased because we have fought too hard to earn these badges. Symbols of chapters in our lives that forever transformed us as we brought new life into the world.
The world will not view it the same. No. In fact, the world will tell us, "You are not good enough", "You are unlovable, unwanted, undesired", "You need to change".
Does a warrior viciously fight against wounded scars that tell of pastime victories and battles? Are not the most precious stones and gems forged by the harshest of elements?
Through the eyes of our children and those that love us, can we not see the flaws we perceive are in fact what makes us imperfectly beautiful?
The voice that will tell you otherwise seeks only to strip you of the joy and peace that comes with body acceptance.
When you finally gather the weighted glory of skin-deep scars that accentuate the miraculous that your body has been capable of.
Every life that you carried and nurtured in your womb, every babe that found sustenance at your breasts, the touch of warmth and comfort that was given freely to those you love.
These bodies. Our bodies. Capable of the impossible by the measures of the world. Perhaps because the love found and given from our bodies and souls is meant to go beyond the stages of this world.