IF YOUR BODY COULD TALK RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT SAY?

If my body could talk right now, it would call me into a place filled with tranquil and light, sit directly opposite me, her eyes filled with pains staring directly into mine, and she would ask,
'How long before you get tired, Amara?

How long before you get tired of being ashamed of me and feeling as though I am the only thing you need to get rid of before your life turns to roses?'

'I have tried all our lives to build this relationship with us but every time, I feel like I don't ever try enough. I watch you deny me. The first time, you hated the beautiful hairs that grew on me and you got rid of them. Now, I watch you suck in your stomach so hard that breathing becomes difficult.

I watch you try to cover the stretch marks and buy cheap creams that never work, to make them disappear in a blink of an eye.

Give me a break, Amara!' She would yell, stare at the fear and shame now boldly dancing on my face and she'd continue,
'You know, you can't deny that you feel good when you stare at me sometimes, especially when someone compliments a part of me and you run home to ogle at me in front of the mirror.'

She would wear a wry smile now for a while and begin to say again, in a voice with drops of boldness,
'You know, there are girls/women who would kill for this body. To have me.

There are men who long to draw your hips so close to them and grab your butt. Men who long to kiss those lips, your forehead, your hand. Men who long to have this body that I am in their arms for as long as they can, and yet, you think I am not enough!

That I have no power!
She would stand, walk around me once and stand before me, away from her seat and say,
'I have watched you make us do the things you want and never the ones I want.
You starve me at your will but will never agree to an exercise.

You never quench my thirst because you don't want to have more difficulties sucking in your tummy when you are posing for a camera.

I have watched you take the things I do not want and you never even care about how I feel.
Look at me,' she would say, taking a few steps backwards and slowly turning around as if to show me things I had never seen before,
'I am beautiful enough. Thick enough. Great ass. Legs. Breasts. Hands. Oh, and my lips?
What else do we need, Amara?'

My eye sockets would be filled by tears by now and she would come closer - yes, she had finally won, hold me on the shoulder and say,
'Amara, I complete you. We are nothing without each other. Can you imagine the great things we can achieve if we focus more on the amazing things about us? Imagine what we can do.'

My tears are running down now and her eyes would follow them down my cheeks until they drop into my blouse.
She would wipe the lines with her palm, smile genuinely and leave.

And then I would know peace enough for she had forgiven me for never appreciating her enough.