I have a secret to tell: I am 18 years old and have stretch marks. This is a letter to them.
Dear stretchmarks,
I have tried so long to conceal you and hide your beauty from the rest of the world. I attempted to hide your stories and my journey while trying to fit society's standards. I wanted to be one of the tall, tan, fit girls I see on Instagram, magazine covers, and television. I wanted to be a girl that others could be envious of. I stared at you in the mirror and contorted my body in the efforts to hide you in my summer clothes.
I would grab my skin and try to measure how much I needed to shed in order to be "beautiful" and would cover myself in makeup to make these valleys into flat ground. I hated you for so long and prayed for you to magically disappear. However, I have learned that you make me human.
Thank you stretch marks, you have made me human.
You surround my hips as a constant reminder that I have been blessed with child-bearing hips just like the women in my family. My butt highlights my hard work on the journey to achieve this amazing asset. You make your way along my stomach as a road map of my fluctuating yet beautiful body. My thighs welcome you as a souvenir of the long hours in the dance studio. My whole body thanks you for making me so unique.
I am the woman I am today because you are a constant reminder of what I have experienced. I have learned to embrace your every line and crease you leave on my body. You are teaching me to love myself and every journey I have been on. I am sorry it has taken me this long to embrace you and all your beauty, but I am so grateful that you are a part of me.
Sincerely,
Your stretch marked owner