Dear Body, Why Are You So Extra?

An open letter to the aching, beautiful mess I live in.

I’ve been avoiding this conversation for a long time. Maybe because once I start, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop. Or maybe, more truthfully, because I know once the floodgates open there’s no stuffing it all back in, no matter how hard I try.

I’m not someone who enjoys walking around all cracked open and vulnerable. I prefer to save my sadness for a respectable 5PM Friday shower like a functioning adult (Friday Cry Day is a sacred tradition around here). But alas, I think it’s time.

I know we haven’t always gotten along, Body. Ever since I can remember, I’ve felt slighted by you. Frustrated that you didn’t seem to want to show up for me the way I wanted you to, or the way other people’s bodies seemed to show up for them. I saw the ease with which some people seemed to move through the world and I wanted that, too. Even in my own family, I was the only one of my siblings to inherit terrible eyesight, to break a bone, to experience a full orthodontic saga in middle school, and to go gray before 30. You always gave “main character energy,” Body, but not in the casually cool way I had always hoped. (See also: headgear, ingrown toenail surgery, and an elementary school perm that still haunts me to this day).

If I’m being completely honest with you, Body, these days I’m feeling more than just slighted or frustrated—I’m feeling betrayed. By you, yes, for the countless new and exciting ways you’ve hurt me since my diagnosis. But also?

By the pills that quiet the pain but stir up a whole new kind of struggle. By a healthcare system that wasn’t built to see the whole picture. By insurance companies that make me beg them to approve what my doctor already knows I need.

And what I’m only now realizing is that for years now, I’ve been taking all that anger out on you because it’s easier than picking a fight I can’t win.

Body, I’m sorry for that.

The truth is, I don’t always love you the way Instagram tells me I should. I know you’d love to have your daily fill of protein, leafy greens, Pilates, meditation, and hydration—but even though I often start my day with plans to care for you in these ways, chronic pain loves a plot twist. Sometimes the best I can do is a hot bath, an early bedtime, and a promise to try again tomorrow.

And you know what’s interesting, Body? On these difficult days, you’re always so much more forgiving of me than I am of myself.

I’m not ready to let it all go yet (Hello, Lynch Syndrome!), but maybe I could stop treating you like a problem to solve and more like a partner to care for. Maybe I could try to meet you where you are. And maybe I could start by… saying thank you? Even if it’s through gritted teeth?

Thank you for keeping me alive.
For doing the best you can with what we’ve got.
For carrying me through the days that feel heavier than anyone can see from the outside.

It’s a small step, I know. But it all counts, right?

So here’s to us, Body. Messy, miraculous, and still here.

Love,
Me

PS: While I’m making amends:

Dear Lower Back,
I know that chair was not the vibe.
I’m sorry for that, too.

💎 Time to crack open The Hope Chest and share a few treasures that turned up this week. Just a little reminder that even when we’re in the messy middle of things, hope and humor still know how to find us.

If you're looking for more ways to stay grounded or inspired, visit The Hope Chest on Substack.

One of the hardest parts of living with chronic pain is knowing your body is somehow both your only shelter, and the one storm you can’t escape. If you’re anything like me, this fun fact tends to lead to uncomfy feelings that you might prefer to ignore (See: Friday Cry Day), but that’s not what we’re here for, friends!

Then what are we here for? I’m so glad you asked!

✍️ Journal Prompt: Write a letter to your body.

What do you need to say?
What do you wish it knew?
Start wherever you are.
Don’t worry about making peace.

Just tell the truth.

A community-curated roundup of the small joys, tiny triumphs, and little lifelines currently getting us through.

• ✍️ “Pretty much anything written by

  Kate Baer
  , but most especially her poetry collection, What Kind of Woman.” — Julie
  

• 👀 “Sounds silly, but as someone who has always had dark circle under their eyes that my chronic pain and sleepless nights have just made worse, this undereye brightening corrector from Smashbox x Becca has improved my confidence 1,000%!” — Alison

• 🏊‍♀️ “Having easy access to a pool has really been a game changer for me. Love being in the water. Feeling like a kid again. And just able to tune all the life drama out for awhile. It’s been especially nice to come back to swimming as an adult. I am no longer trying to be the fastest in the pool or have the best backflip or whatever. It’s just about fun and relaxing.” — Heather
  

• 💊 I can’t tell if this IG post is a personal attack, a targeted ad, or a bit of comedy gold, but boy did it land. — Lindsay, your CPB

Have a personal win or hopeful recommendation to share? Leave a comment, or you can hit reply to tell me what’s saving you right now. I read every message!

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That’s it for now, Bestie.
Until next time, just remember: You’ve got this. And I’ve got you.

xo,

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If this resonated with you, would you forward it to a friend who could use a little hope today?