Most of my mornings start the same. Turn on the kettle, feed the cat, then shower. Not really exciting, but still part of the grand process. How cold the floor is in the morning, the state of the sunrise may differ. I am a creature of habit, mainly because I hate having to think. 

 I had just gotten out of the shower, and was moisturizing and conditioning various parts of me. I then ran my hand over some textured skin. I raised the skin up and saw small soft wrinkles under my arm. I massage lotion into the skin, taking a second to look at the hint of shine between the wrinkles before dropping the loose skin. 

Wandering into the bedroom, I clumsily put on socks, pausing to scratch my thigh. I felt my nails catch on skin, tugging at it. There were little grooves running along the back of my thigh. Long, thick, pink. And mine. I give them a good scratch before soothing the area with more lotion.  Pretending my hand laid across guitar strings,I give them a little strum. The tune is different every time, but it’s always familiar. 

They are my stretch marks, also called Striae. It is when the skin stretches and contracts too quickly for it to retract to its original form. They come in different colours and textures. They are considered ugly. A detriment, blemishes. They are covered so quickly most of us won’t see them until we have them ourselves. 

That also means we don’t talk about them. Why do we hide obvious things from each other?  

I used to hate mine. Scrubbing them with exfoliants, constantly attacking them with patches and serum. I didn’t understand that they were there for a reason. It was a clue that told the story of one’s existence. The most obvious symptom of mine is I gained and lost a lot of weight a couple of times. Most women will get them from pregnancy, but I am proof we can all be blessed with these lines of wisdom. Some families, like with varicose veins, inherently will be more likely to have them. Cortisol Steroids can affect the elasticity of your skin, which can help them form more easily.  Either way, there they are.

The message is it doesn’t matter where they are and what they look like. Because we all have something. If not stretch marks, then birthmarks, surgical scars, cellulitis. We can wear them all as signs of a good life. They are all ingredients in the potion that  makes us.  

At some point in our lives, we have one thing that upsets how we look. Or, more importantly, how we feel about ourselves. If we spend extra seconds every day covering up, what does that take away? That adds up to…. days…Weeks? of your life dedicated to hiding part of yourself. Hours planning how to dress and what you can do at a function. I feel that is more damaging than walking out the door without enough makeup. The only commodity we really have is time, so gaining some back while also improving our mindset is a double win. 

Here in the real world, behind closed doors, we are all wrinkly floppy messes.  How we feel about ourselves and these floppy vessels is where magic lives. Being able to live without worry about how someone sees you. To walk out the door without checking your hat is covering a bald patch. 

When we, at the very least, accept ourselves, we free ourselves of those moments of doubt. You give yourself back that time as a gift for being brave. Show yourself the love others would call indulgence. 

Stretch Marks are part of your journey. Part of you and the body you live in. To be cared for and loved like it deserves. You have to accept and love all of you to be happy. You don’t have to be perfect to be happy. Allow yourself to be blessed.

To love yourself is magic. To show yourself love when others don’t want you to is a magical act. We fight every day against the message of ‘not being enough’. You are stronger than words. You are more powerful than capitalism.

What happens to your body is art, and for others to have a say in how it appears is unnatural. 

Being able to wear ourselves unapologetically on our bodies is magic.  It gives you confidence. It empowers you. And inspires others. 

 The last thing I do is take some cocoa butter and rub it into the stretched part of my skin. Keeping the skin in the area well moisturized. It will keep the stretch marks from becoming ropey and help them fade over time. There are old ones on my stomach, light and thin, left over from a growth spurt years ago. I indulge in looking over myself in the mirror. Not to pick out what needs to be done. This isn’t a todo list. I am taking inventory. I am admiring what my body does. A minute’s meditation mulling myself over. While moisturized. 

Give yourself the gift of you. You give so much to so many, make sure you get the waxing share. Look at yourself.  No criticism. No remarks at all. Just enjoy who you are. Bring yourself happiness. Remind yourself to be happy. Take the time you would work into a spell or talisman, and spend it taking care of you. An hour of feeding your body, inside and out. Cast a spell to soothe your own self. A lifes’ journey can only be better with a happier vessel.