I used to think my body had to look a certain way to deserve love, confidence, softness, attention, joy… all of it.

I thought if I could just make it smaller, tighter, prettier, more acceptable, then maybe I would finally feel okay in it.

But that kind of thinking will exhaust a woman.

And perimenopause has forced me to look at all of it differently.

Because when your body starts changing, sometimes in ways you did not ask for, you have a choice.

You can keep fighting it every single day. Or you can start building a new relationship with it.

One with more listening. More compassion. More truth. Less punishment. Less shame.

My body is not here to earn worth. My body is where I live.

And I want that relationship to feel kinder now.

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