This post follows on from Too Something.
It’s not that I hate my body, or even dislike it. I don’t rant and rail at myself about being unattractive or too fat, or that I have wrinkles and a softening jaw line.
Rather, I am completely disconnected from my body. I am my mind, my spirit, my thoughts, my creativity. My body happens to house all of that. And no, I don’t even make the association that therefore I should take care of the house.
I have come to suspect having zero relationship with my body is perhaps as harmful as having a negative one. Hence this journey.