Beautiful is the body; a poem and a story.

I’m amazed by the way that bodies change

Hardening and softening

Muscles growing from weights lifted

Skin expanding from babies being created and formed

Waists slimming and filling out through different phases of life

How amazing the body is

With the way that it endures trauma yet isn’t destroyed

Is bruised and broken yet still breathing and existing

How amazing is the body and the way that it is built

Carrying us through our day

Lifting up our children

Tiny muscles coming together as we move and navigate the world

What a fantastic gift we’ve been given

These bodies of ours

May we acknowledge and celebrate them

For the ways that they expand and contract

The ways they protect and guard

For all that they do

These beautiful bodies of ours.

My body has changed a lot during this COVID season. It evolved and adapted with the circumstances. It expanded and contracted, skin stretched and then retreated back to how it was before. All in an effort to keep me protected and keep me safe. My body knew what it needed to do in order for me to survive. When my brain checked out and my reason followed, my body stepped in and held me up and guided me back to me.

When we began to feel the impact of COVID-19 and talk of quarantine started I was excited about the idea of working from home and being in the house. As an outgoing introvert, I enjoy time with others but I love time alone. It refuels me and keeps me centered. I did not expect or anticipate the anxiety that enveloped me when quarantine became a reality. You know those panic buyers? The people that loaded their grocery carts with cans of corn and toilet paper and flour? I can empathize with them. I was almost one of them.

The first week of quarantine I became fixated on the idea of always having an abundance of eggs in the house. I eat eggs every morning and the idea of running out of them ignited a panic within me. I don’t use that word lightly; I genuinely mean a true panic. The thought of it would make me feel deeply anxious. To make matters worse, one day I went to the store to buy some and the shelves were empty. I left my cart right there, in front of the display and went to my car and cried. I was so upset and shaken that I nearly had a panic attack. If you know me well than you know that it’s not like me to react in that way about something so minuscule. I wasn’t feeling like myself, I felt so overwhelmed and filled with dread. It took a few days before we could get eggs but we never ran out, we never even came close. This is only a snapshot of weeks of intense feelings of anxiousness.

I look back at that time, which was only a few months ago and I feel so grateful for the way my body filled the gap that my anxiety created. It was so beautiful and unexpected and necessary.

Now that I’m on the other side of that dark season, I am very mindful of the way that I treat and speak about my body. This body that carried me when my mind couldn’t orient me. This beautiful, strong, body that fed me and made me move when anxiety and depression told me that staying in bed all day and not eating was a better idea. This body that allowed me to melt into a hug and a kiss from my partner and really feel it when my mind seemed so far away.

I love my body but more importantly now, for me at least, I trust my body. I trust that when I’m in a healthy place my mind and body can work together and when I’m not, that the strongest part of me at the time will step up. What a beautiful revelation to have, right? That when darkness seems to be encroaching around you that light will shine from an unexpected place.

I feel stronger now. I’ve talked to my therapist and she gave me some tools and now I feel more equipped to handle life. Thank God for therapy. If something like this happens again I’ll have the resources and experience to navigate it. I don’t feel shame around the fact that I struggle with anxiety. Soon I will write about mental health in the Black community and the importance of being vocal about it and normalizing it. I am hoping that anxiety will not be a lifelong challenge for me but it’s here for now.

I haven’t experienced waves as strong as the first week of quarantine but it lingers near like a low tide. At times it cripples my reason and at others it is simply a distant concern. As talk of a second wave intensifies so does the roar of this illness but I’m keeping it at bay. Tough is the anxiety but beautiful is the body that holds me down as I navigate it. Beautiful is the body that gives home to this soul that keeps me sane when things get scrambled. I’m amazed by the ways that bodies change, hardening and softening but I’m even more amazed by the way that when we’re lost, they carry us home.