I've always been fascinated by how therapeutic writing can be. Writing has always been something that has helped me to understand myself and the world around me a little better. Writing can be powerful in establishing and nurturing relationships with others and with ourselves. Think about it—in order to form honest, loving relationships with other people, we have to communicate how we feel. Love letters, thank-you notes, sympathy cards, song lyrics, poems, and the occasional note in your lunch box from Mom can all have a strong influence on our relationships with others.
Believe it or not, the same thing can apply when it comes to forming a healthy relationship with our bodies. Expressive writing has been successfully used as a tool in eating disorder recovery programs (East, Startup, Roberts & Schmidt, 2010), as well as in programs like Recapturing Beauty that help people to form and strengthen a positive body image. Our bodies do so much for us every day! I think they deserve some words of affirmation every once in a while. We are all at different points in how we feel toward our bodies. But no matter where we are on that journey, there's always room for a little more love.
So here's a challenge: write a love letter to your body! This love letter can be written to your whole body, or just a part of it—maybe a part that you particularly appreciate and adore, or maybe a part you've had a rocky relationship with. It can be a full-out love letter, or just a short love note. You can keep this letter private, or talk about it with someone. It's up to you! Just remember, you can be as honest as you want to be, and say how you really feel. Try to think of positive and honest things you can tell your body. That is how you'll get the most out of this exercise. The goal of this writing activity is to help you strengthen your relationship with your body. Happy writing!
Here is an example of a love letter written from a young woman to her tummy. She's given her permission for her letter to be posted here. :)
Dear Tummy,
There are a lot of things that I like about you. I like that your belly button is kind of cute. I like the feeling of your muscles tightening when I laugh deeply. I never thought I'd say this, but I like that you are soft and not hard. I think of all of the comforting, soft tummies I have rested my head on in my lifetime, and I am glad that you are like those tummies. And it's scary for me to say this, but I like that someday you will stretch and make room for my children to grow. I like your smooth skin, and even your paleness during the summertime. I like that you are warm, but that you get cold when I exercise.
Dear tummy, even though you have so many great qualities, it's sometimes hard for me to love you. To me, you represent vulnerability. You represent the things in my life that I feel are hard to hide and scary to show because they are not “perfect.” I'm learning, though, that those parts of me are the parts that make me unique and lovable. Those parts of me don't meet the world's standard of perfection, but that doesn't mean I can't love them. I think the same thing goes for you, tummy. You might not look like the dream-tummy of fitness magazines, but that doesn't mean I can't love you for what you are. That doesn't mean I can't love you just for being a part of the body that God created for me. This might sound strange, but I think you're teaching me lessons that I need to learn. So thank you.
Love,
Me
Article written by Jessica Croft
Sources:
East, P., Startup, H., Roberts, C., & Schmidt, U. (2010). Expressive writing and eating disorder features: A preliminary trial in a student sample of the impact of three writing tasks on eating disorder symptoms and associated cognitive, affective and interpersonal factors. European Eating Disorders Review, doi: 10.1002/erv.978
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