My skin language

Once again I looked at my naked body… once again I heard that my skin spoke to me and in that language (which you only understand when you discover the beauty of your being) I was able to understand the importance of recognizing myself, of loving myself, of giving myself away. With each look I learned to become stronger, with each run of my hand over my cheeks I feel the sweetness of my soul.

Today, completely naked, I can understand that being vulnerable is just an adjective used by others to make me forget that I will be powerful all my life; with my smooth skin now, with my wrinkles later, with all my freckles receding every year, with my deep and challenging gaze, with that ass and those tits that don’t need to be on magazine covers to arouse pride in me, because everything, absolutely everything that I am when I am completely exposed is exactly what I need to be able to emerge, because each part of me is in harmony with the rest of my being, because I function in total synchrony with life, with the universe, with my mind. how proud she tempts me to look at myself, to observe myself, to love myself completely and without complexes, because she tells me and I feel it, that defects do not exist when the soul and the body complement each other in that unit, that unit that is me, so simple, so complex, so contradictory goddess, so deeply spiritual, so simply human and so perfectly woman.