“Talk to yourself like someone you love.” -Brene Brown
On location in Wilmington, NC, shooting a TV series one evening after wrap, the actress I was doubling and a few others from set decided to take a walk from our hotel through the perfectly balanced salty air and warm evening breeze to grab tacos at a local spot everyone was raving about.
Along the way, the actress, who used to be a supermodel, began reminiscing about her modeling days. I mentioned that I did a bit of modeling, but insecurity about my body held me back. Almost without thinking, I said, “I’ve always hated my legs.”
She stopped in her tracks and gasped. “You don’t like your legs?” she said, almost in disbelief. I felt as though I had offended her. She went on to tell me about a fellow model she once worked with-tall, thin, with legs for days—who constantly complained about how much she hated her legs.
Then one day, that model was in a horrific car accident. She survived, but both of her legs had to be amputated.
Chills up and down my body as if a cold chill took over the warm ocean air in an instant. If the Universe wasn’t trying to teach her a lesson, I don’t know what else it would be. Undeniable, the Universe has spoken. I couldn’t believe it. Just because of how much she complained about her legs. Proof our words are so powerful. Beyond measure.
That story hit me like a wave. I stood there on that quiet street, suddenly aware of just how ungrateful I had been, hating my legs that carried me through life, allowed me to do stunts, play sports, chase my dreams, and live fully.
And for the first time, I saw them clearly, not through a lens of comparison, but through one of gratitude. How dare I hate something so miraculous? How many people would give anything to do what I do let alone to move freely, to leap, to walk, to run?
From that moment on, I made a promise to myself: never again would I complain about my body. Sure, we all have things we wish we could change, but I then fully understood gratitude changes perception.
Every day since, I thank my body, not for being “perfect,” but for being powerful, capable, and mine.
I spent my entire childhood to teenage years wishing for something different, when what I have is already a miracle. So here’s your reminder: love the body that carries you, thank it often, and never underestimate the gift of simply being able to move through this world.
Still, I thank my body every single day. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s mine. It’s survived every fall, every injury, every heartbreak, and still gets up, over and over again.
So if you’re reading this and you’ve ever looked at yourself with anything less than love, I challenge you to stop. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now.
Start by thanking your legs for carrying you. Your arms for lifting. Your eyes for seeing beauty. Your heart for beating through the chaos. You are alive. You are here. And that, in itself, is a miracle.
Your scars are proof you’ve healed. Your imperfections are proof you’ve lived. And your body, it’s not the problem. Our perspective is.
Shift it. Celebrate yourself. Every curve. Every line. Every stretch mark. Every freckle. Every scar. You are not here to look like anyone else. You are here to become the most empowered, present, and grateful version of you.
Mike Everhart says:
Wish more people would look at life the way you do. Thanks for all the uplifting words. I appreciate you.