A Self-Love Letter

Dearest Amy

Do you remember the time years ago when you would stand at the sink looking out at the Kyle of Durness as you washed the dishes?

Your gaze fixed on the shifting colours of the sand bars beneath the shallow water that flowed in from the freezing Atlantic Ocean.

Your hands covered in suds, the little bubbles drying on the translucent skin of your inner wrist long forgotten, as your spirit travelled on updrafts to meet the gulls that circled somewhere between earth and cloud.

Your belly full of child waiting to breathe the air and know the tender loving touch of its mother.

I loved you then as I love you now.

You look out now on a different coast, to a different sea, in a different direction. But your eyes are still full of waves and light and the cry of gulls.

Your fingers now fly over the keys as you spend your days writing down the words to evoke dreams – your own and those of others too. But your hands are still attending to your spirit journeys out towards the far horizon – out to where the big fish swim.

Your belly is now empty of child, despite those dreams where you can still feel the shift of limbs not your own. But your children now breathe in that fresh salt sea air. And that loving touch of your kiss upon their cheek, your arms around their slim shoulders, your soft breast where they lay their head in need of comfort, in need of home – yes, that is as familiar to them as breathing.

Your world may change around you. Your children may grow up and leave to live adventures of their own. Your hands may find new work to do. Your eyes new shores to gaze upon. But you, my darling, will always be loved.

Until my heart stops beating, and probably even then….
Amy
xxxx

I would like to invite you to write your own self-love letter. If you find that you’re struggling, write it from the perspective of a parent/lover/best friend to yourself. Let me know how you get on!