I’ve realized, recently, that I haven’t been kind to you. Both in the way that I take care of you— or don’t— and in the way that I say cruel things about you when I look in the mirror. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for saying you’re not good enough, but then working against you instead of with you.
Thank you for eyes that see the beauty in the world around me, and for ears that hear it. Thank you for fingers that can paint, write, play music, and feel. Thank you for a nose that can smell the sweetness of flowers, and a tongue that can taste delicious food. Thank you for a voice that can sing and whisper and shout. Thank you for working lungs that fill with air and allow my voice its volume.
Thank you for a heart that beats. Thank you for a mind that can think both logically and creatively. Thank you for the emotions that are somehow both my heart and my brain, working together. Thank you for tears to express my great sorrows and my great joys.
Thank you for strong arms that can squeeze my loved ones in an affectionate hug, lift books so that I can read them, carry most of the groceries inside in one trip. Thank you for strong legs that carry me through the world and make it possible to go to and experience new places.
You are beautiful just the way you are because you are the reason I’m alive. I have not been the best at taking care of you, but you are capable of amazing things. I promise to do better and to nourish you, in return for the incredible gifts you give me every day that I’m alive.