My body.
I grew up obese for most of my early life. The first time I lost weight drastically was due to severe depression in grade 11. I hated looking at mirrors while growing up, cried profusely in silence asking myself why I had such a heavy body while other girls got to enjoy their youth feeling confident and attractive.
I am 34 years old now. I do strength training 3-4x per week, started doing yoga, finished a half and a full marathon last year, and have run so many miles in the process. My body does not look anything like a ripped, fit, strong body, but it is mine and it helps me feel great. I now appreciate its strength and resilience, even though I have put it through so much negative self-talk, repeated harm, and outright ignorance. Not anymore.
I take care of it with all my heart, with grace and love, because this body is here till the end of my journey. And I want to feed it with so much love and gratefulness that I was unable to give it when it needed it the most.