My mumma walked naked but my body isn't like hers. I had tried to make my breasts smaller, perter. My body wasn't like hers - it was bigger.
My hope stood higher, my breasts lolled wider, my hips stood BIGGER. My tummy distended with booze and smokes and ham.
A goddess body. A Mayan body. A healthy body. A loved body. A body whose breasts began to graze the table at dinner as much as her hands did. A body that can only now just fit in an aeroplane seat. And just make it up the stairs.
I'll love my body for every time that I've hated it - and more. BECAUSE it deserves it. Because your body carries you. Because your very cells wear the wisdom of the universe. And every woman who lived and breathed and died before you. So don't try to make it smaller - make it bigger! Full of stories and love and hopefulness. Full of the essence of existence - of the future before us. The very seed, the very earth of life is held in our tummies, our healing arms and our heaving hearts. Goddammit! Don't try to make them smaller. We need to be big so we can be strong.
I'm gonna be bigger than my mumma. And my daughter after me.
Illustration by ED LUCAS
Photography by EMMA BLAKE MORSI
Modelled by JASMIN NOWAK FEARON