She Treats Her Body Like A Work Of Art

I see her at the pool at least once a week, and I've been taking notes.

She walks with her head held high like a ballet dancer. She does not sink into herself. Her neck is long and elegant, and her shoulders are always rolled back. Her spine is so straight it's as if an invisible string is pulling her gently skyward. There is an effortless grace to every step she takes across the pool deck.

I'm mesmerized.

Sometimes she'll stop in the middle of swimming laps and do a handstand in the water, toes pointed perfectly toward the sky. Then she slips back beneath the surface without a splash, like a mermaid, and continues her swim.

Afterward, I'm usually rushing to dry my hair and get on with the next task of my day.

She stands on top of the locker room bench, balancing with ease, and begins rubbing lotion over every inch of her body. I face the mirror, but in my reflection I watch her enact the most luxurious self-care ritual I've ever witnessed.

I think she's finished, but then she scoops out more moisturizer and continues—her elbows and arms, the center of her back, her feet, her clavicle, her shoulders.

I swear I can hear soft classical piano music emanating from her corner of the locker room.

This woman has taught me more about caring for my body than any therapist, counselor, mentor, or coach ever has.

The way she moves her hands across her skin is like watching a painter work on a masterpiece. Slow. Deliberate. Purposeful. She treats her body like a work of art, noticing, tending to, and honoring every part.

She smiles, naked, as she goes about her ritual, chatting easily with the other women around her.

This is what it means to feel at home in your own skin, I think.

These past few weeks, after my nighttime showers, I've been applying my CeraVe lotion differently. Instead of rushing through it in under a minute, as I usually do, I slow down.

I run my hands across my stomach and down my arms and legs, and between my toes.

I can spare five extra minutes.

I let the care seep into my pores. I let love sink into my body.

I wonder what it would feel like to tend to myself this way every day—to show my body the attention and affection it deserves.

The dewy glow of healthy skin feels less like beauty and more like evidence of something deeper:

a quiet, soul-deep kindness toward oneself.