A Shorts Story

I love the feeling that I am enough. I love knowing and accepting that I am perfectly made and so I don’t do crossfit to fit my body into a mould. I crossfit (yes, it’s used as a verb these days) because I love moving my body and finding out what it can do.

The journey of self-acceptance isn’t an easy one, especially if you’ve got 30+ years of believing that there’s a better version of yourself to be created. Sometimes you have to jump straight in, right? Or maybe not. I had a training session at the gym yesterday and while I wanted to wear my shorts, I decided to wear my normal tights instead. The reason? I had to take Baby Girl to pre-school and I wasn’t comfortable walking through the school with my shorts on.

After I dropped her off, I was still too early for my session so I opted to go to the beach instead of coffee shop to do some work. I was getting hot in my tights so decided to change into my shorts while sitting in the car. Much better! If you’re wondering what the point is, it’s coming.

Time came for me to make my way to my crossfit box. It was a glorious day. The windows were down and the wind was blowing my hair. Bliss. Then I felt something on my leg. I looked down, rubbed the area. Nothing. Maybe an insect that flew out? It happened again. Then it hit me. It was the wind. I had denied myself the right to wear shorts for so long that my legs didn’t even know what it felt like to have the wind caressing them. Isn’t that just sad? It’s such a lovely feeling when you realise that it’s not an insect. Ha ha. I’m just glad that, a few days shy of turning 40, I finally know that all legs are ‘shorts legs.’

Kahlil Gibran, in my favourite book The Prophet, speaks of Clothes. Before, I loved what he said. Now, I get it.

kahlil_gibran_clothes.jpg

Thanks for reading x

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