My Body Is The Least Interesting Thing About Me
<p>I stand in front of the mirror and conduct my daily visual examination.</p>
<p>The lower part of my belly protrudes. Cellulite puckers my fleshy thighs. Spiky gray hairs sprout up along my crown. Is that a zit welling up on my chin?</p>
<p><strong>I don’t <em>hate </em>my body. I don’t <em>loooove</em> it, either. It’s completely fine and usually gets the job done. </strong><strong>I’m just sick of obsessing over it.</strong></p>
<p>This is a learned trait. I don’t think I’m the only one whose mother passed down a critical gaze along with the color of the eyes that do it.</p>
<p>My body has always been unacceptable in some way.</p>
<p><a href="https://medium.com/hello-writer/my-body-is-the-least-interesting-thing-about-me-bbfa7ad662fb"><strong>Click Here</strong></a></p>