She crawls, and climbs on me, and tugs, and pinches, and sucks, and bites, and touches, and pushes. She holds on, and grabs, and pulls. She stands on my stomach. My body has never been used for so many things, yet treated with so little regard.
My body is just there. Her body is just there. To explore. To use.
Not body love. Body neutrality. In other words, she doesn’t give a shit what my body (or her body) looks like or doesn’t look like. She cares about what it does.
Milk. Yay. Pick me up. Yay. Rest my head on your shoulder. Yay. Belly. Tickle, tickle.
Belly button. YAY. Toes? Wow. Nose? Pick.
Body positivity and body love is an unrealistic goal for many (at least initially). To go from body loathing (which is often the default) to body love is a big jump. And, if it’s a continuum, it might make sense to shoot for neutrality first.
Not “I hate my thighs”, “I can’t stand my stomach”. And not “I am a goddess of amazingness and sex appeal”, “My curvaceous deliciousness overfloweth”.
I have a body. I have knees. I have thighs. Belly. Tickle, tickle. Toes? Wow.