Body Language

The first time I heard her, I ignored her.

She pointed out my youthful round limbs and torso

But I kept playing.

She showed up again in the gaze of my peers,

As their bodies began to develop,

And mine didn’t – not that way.

She seemed to have my best interests at heart:

She wanted to make me better, acceptable.

Soon she was in charge.

I got thinner, but it wasn’t enough.

I got in shape, but her voice was still loathing.

She consumed my thoughts, my dreams, my aspirations.

For years I served her.

For years, she loathed me.

Soon I began to see that there was no pleasing her.

She was a slave-master and her message was simple:

“You have the wrong body.”

And I believed her.

Then I began hearing His voice.

It was radically different from hers.

He wasn’t looking for a perfect body.

But a willing vessel, a dwelling for His love.

His gentle pursuit confused me – it seemed too simple:

“I created your body to thirst for my love.”

For a while, I tried to listen to both voices.

I didn’t trust His motives when it came to my body,

So I listened to Him about everything else,

But not about my body, nor my lies about it.

Her taunting voice was louder than His call to freedom,

And I loathed myself.

She was always demanding, and never satisfied.

He was always giving and desired all of me for Himself.

He asked me to trust that He could meet my deepest needs.

Reluctantly and fearfully, I dismissed her empty promises.

And purposefully, I began listening for His gentle voice

And I found the freedom in His real, sacrificial love.

Her voice still calls to me,

It has diminished appeal, but I hear her,

Promising me the body that I have always wanted.

When I already have what I thought that body would bring:

To be fully known and deeply loved, just as I am.

A body, transformed by the language of Love.

Patti McCarthy Broderick

August 2017