Beauty Carved In Flesh and Blood

Piper Bayard

Each year, the beautiful August McLaughlin orchestrates a celebration of women and beauty. Drop by her site this week at the Beauty of a Woman Blogfest V for prizes and tributes to the Beauty of a Woman.

 

Waterolor beautiful girl. Vector illustration of woman beauty salon

Waterolor beautiful girl. Vector illustration of woman beauty salon

 

Beauty Carved In Flesh and Blood

I am the body that learned to walk, that ran in the sunshine and kicked off shoes to dance in the rain – the body that thirsted for life.

I am the body that was “too tall,” “too fat,” “too feminine” for boys to let join in their games – the body so embarrassed that it had to hide.

I am the body the men whistled at, honked at, and devoured with their eyes – the body that strutted with sexual pride.

I am the body that was violated, shamed, and silenced – the body that wanted to die.

I am the body that choked on its anger, was strangled by cancer, and fought back with faith and laughter – the body that was no longer whole.

I am the body that thrilled to a lover’s caress, rejoiced at the quickening of my womb, and writhed in the primal screams of childbirth – the body that gave life and by it was made whole once more.

I am the body that cooked dinner, nursed wounds, taught letters, and did not sleep for a decade – the body that fed its children on its flesh and bones.

I am the body that grew crooked and crippled before its time, suffered surgeries and rehab, and contorted with agony – the body that learned to walk again.

I am the body that looks in the mirror and sees wisdom etched by laughter into its face and beauty carved by blood into its scars – the body at peace with itself.

I am old.

I am beautiful.

I am the body of a woman.

Looking Back at Fifty — You Can’t Fix Stupid

By Piper Bayard

I turned fifty in 2013, and in my life, I’ve learned that growing old sucks. Small strains take months to heal, old wounds are new aches and pains, and where the young woman I was had the world for a smile, the woman I am now knows the treasures only won with my labor. But as far as I can tell, growing old still beats the alternative, so I’m still doing it. At least for today.

While turning fifty is a traumatic event for so many people, I find it a release and a relief—an opportunity to embrace my inner curmudgeon. I’ve now earned the right to regale young people with my cautions and advice. If I had to narrow it down to ten gems, here’s what they are . . .

Canstock Treasure

  1. If you keep doing what you’re doing, you’re going to keep getting what you’re getting.
  2. If you change yourself, you will change your world.
  3. Embrace your deepest fears, and they will guide you to fulfillment and purpose—unless it’s a fear of bungee jumping. It’s probably okay to pass on that one.
  4. The best exercise is the one you will do.
  5. Be the person you want to meet, and you will meet the person you want.
  6. If your head is full of what you think you know, you have no room left to learn anything.
  7. It’s no skin off your butt to be kind.
  8. Everyone’s a head case. The only real question is if they are a head case you can live with.
  9. You can’t fix stupid.
  10. Intelligence is the ability to learn from your mistakes, and it has nothing to do with IQ.
  11. If you didn’t give birth to them or marry them, you’ve got no business criticizing them.
  12. Donuts are the world’s most powerful social grease, particularly at your kids’ school office.
  13. Never sweat the count. 🙂

What are the gems you’re willing to share from your experience? Come by our new site, Bayard & Holmes, and leave a comment. 

Looking Back at Fifty

Wishing you all a 2014 full of wonder, grace, and helpful life lessons. Happy New Year!