A Letter to My Body

Hey body, it is okay

I live with lupus. Lupus is an autoimmune disease and it is attacking my kidneys. My body changed a lot since my diagnosis, but my relationship with it improved. I now write a letter to my body.

Hey body,

Hey, sorry it took me so long to write you. It has been some complicated years; you know that more than anyone. I wanted to write you earlier, but I just didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know how to say it.

I have hated you in the past. I talked shit to you on a daily basis and that must have hurt. I said you were too fat, too incapable, too clumsy. I laughed at you, hurt you, yelled at you, while I should have been there for you. You had enough to deal with already and if I had just taken a moment to listen to you…. I would have never … never… been so unkind. I wanted to say I am sorry for this. It pains me to know that all could have been easier for you. My words now won’t take back all the hate of all these years, but I hope it calms and comforts you to know that I want to do better, I want to treat you better.

You have had a rough couple of years. Countless needles have stabbed you, countless doctors examined you. You had to withstand pain, which I wanted you to walk through, you had to withstand nausea, no sleep, too much sleep, too little movement and more. You were there for me even when you were falling apart. I am sorry body, that your life is so hard, that it is so difficult. I am sorry that you lose weight and then gain it again and lose it and gain it and loose it in an endless cycle. I am sorry you get drugged every day with medicines that seem to do more harm than good.

I want you to know I am here for you now. I will listen if you yell in pain, I will listen even when you whisper. I know better now. I will try to comfort you with a blanket, some food, some sleep or whatever you need. I even try to talk to you in a kinder, more loving way. Forgive me if I slip up once, but from now on expect me to give you the love you deserve. I know now that no matter who I might lose or who I might befriend, it’s you I will have to live with the rest of my life. Better to be friends, right?

I can’t predict how things will go. You might get sicker, you might not, but just as in marriage I promise you, in sickness and in health, to always love you. I see now, when I look at you in the mirror, what you did for me. Despite the scars that stand for all that you have been through, despite fat or no fat, you are beautiful. You are a unique appearance, a strong fighter, a gentle lover and a natural beauty. Thank you, body, for being the way you are. Thank you for growing into this woman as you have.

Thank you, body,

I love you,

Big hug,

Ilse