O9: Talk about little things on your body that you like the most.

On a good day, the thing I like the most about my body is my lips. There is something about the way they're just full enough to balance out my too round face, and how when I smile at my reflection she looks less like a stranger.

I like some of the people these lips have touched, but I also like that these lips stayed closed when they were kissed by the people I didn't like. 

I like these lips for the sensitivity they continue to show, even when the rest of me is cold and calloused. 

I sometimes like these legs, when they are strong and so am I. I like that though these legs have no mouth of their very own, they tell many stories. 

The time I fell off a bike with no training wheels. The burn scar from the hot rubber when I tried to fix a bracelet that I thought would fix a friendship. The healed knee I skinned picking oranges with my grandmother. The tan that tells you that I am a full time student—darkest on the shins, lightest under my socks. 

These legs that have carried me like sails carry boats across bodies of water. These legs that will go til they collapse and get back up and go again. These legs whose ache gives me purpose. These legs that will take me across the world. 

I occasionally am fond of this hair, though I once thought it was less than worthy because of its texture. It was what I was taught to fear—"too thick, too curly, too hard to comb"—and told to fix. To fix, as if it was broken. 

This hair, though, it forgives. It is strong and holds to its texture even when I am unkind. It forgives and reminds me of who I am, even the parts I thought I could change. It is gentle when I try to be patient, but it is resilient when I try to be vicious. It reminds me that it is here to stay. I remind myself that God makes no mistakes and He spent plenty time on me. 

The little things I love, part of a whole I appreciate and move towards adoring in its entirety—curves, edges, bumps, lumps and all.