What If You Treated Your Body Like Your Best Friend?

There is one relationship you will have for your entire life. Before every friendship, every love, every accomplishment, every heartbreak and every new beginning, there is your body.

It has been there for all of it. And yet, how often do we speak to our bodies as though they are the problem?

Why are you so tired?

Why can't you lose the weight?

Why are you hurting?

Why don't you look the way you used to?

Why can't you just keep up?

We criticize. We compare. We push. We ignore. And then, when the body asks for our attention—through fatigue, tension, discomfort, restlessness or simply a feeling that something is "off"—we can become frustrated with it.

But what if we changed the conversation? What if, instead of treating your body like something you need to control, correct or conquer, you began treating it like your oldest and most loyal friend?

Your body has been with you through everything

Think about what your body has carried you through. Every place you've traveled. Every person you've hugged. Every belly laugh. Every sleepless night. Every stressful season. Every beautiful meal. Every loss. Every celebration.

Your hands have touched people you love. Your legs have carried you toward things you wanted—and sometimes away from things you needed to leave. Your heart has raced with excitement and fear. Your lungs have taken another breath thousands and thousands of times without you having to ask. Your body has adapted to your life over and over again.

Maybe it deserves a little tenderness. Not because it is perfect. Because it is yours.

What are you saying to your body?

I often find it interesting to notice the language we use toward ourselves. Would you speak to someone you deeply loved the way you sometimes speak to your body? Would you look at your best friend and say:

You're disgusting.

You're getting old.

You need to work harder.

I hate this part of you.

Why can't you just behave?

Probably not.

If your best friend were exhausted, you might ask:

What do you need?

If she were overwhelmed:

How can I support you?

If she were hurting:

Where does it hurt? Come here.

If she had been through something difficult:

You've been carrying a lot. Let's take care of you.

So what would happen if we began offering some of that same friendship to our own bodies?

Have a conversation instead of giving an order

Try something simple. Put your hand somewhere on your body, your heart, your belly, your shoulders, or both hands on your cheeks, wherever feels natural.

And instead of telling your body what it needs to do, ask:

Body, how are you today?

And wait.

Not necessarily for words. You may notice a breath. An emotion. A sensation.

An urge to stretch. A realization that you're thirsty. The awareness that you're exhausted.

The desire to move. The desire to stop moving. Or perhaps nothing happens at all.

That's okay too.

This isn't about making something happen. It's about rebuilding a conversation. You can even ask:

What would feel nurturing to you today?

What have I been ignoring?

Where am I pushing when I could soften?

What would make you feel cared for?

And then comes an important part:

Listen.

Touch can be a conversation too

Not every conversation happens with words. Sometimes caring for the body means nourishing it well. Sometimes it means movement. Sometimes sleep. Sometimes sunshine, water, stretching, dancing, walking barefoot on the earth or simply allowing yourself to be still. And sometimes it means receiving touch. This is one of the things I appreciate so much about massage and bodywork.

For a period of time, you aren't asking your body to produce anything. You're not asking it to perform. You're not asking it to look different. You're simply giving it attention. Hands slow down. Breathing changes. Muscles are given an opportunity to soften. Awareness returns to places you may barely notice during the rush of everyday life. There is something deeply human about being cared for in that way.

And then there is energy

My work also includes energetic approaches, because I don't experience people as being only thoughts—or only physical bodies. There are moments when we feel heavy without having a perfect explanation for it. Other times we walk into a room and immediately feel ourselves soften. Music can change us. Nature can change us. A person's presence can change the way we feel.

Whether you think of this as energy, nervous-system response, awareness, connection, or simply part of the human experience, I find there is value in becoming curious about it rather than needing to explain everything.

What happens when you become still enough to notice yourself?

What changes when you receive rather than constantly do?

What becomes available when the noise quiets down?

Those are questions I love exploring.

Your body doesn't have to be your enemy

Perhaps nurturing your body begins with something much simpler than a new routine.

Maybe it begins with changing the relationship. From criticism to curiosity. From punishment to partnership.

From "What's wrong with you?"

to

"What are you trying to tell me?"

From "I hate my body."

to

"I'm learning how to take care of you."

From "You need to change."

to

"What would bring us closer together?"

Because you are.

Your body isn't a project you'll eventually finish. It is your companion through this entire human experience. Your home. Your messenger. Your vehicle for touching, tasting, creating, loving, laughing, moving, resting and experiencing this life. And perhaps one of the most healing relationships we can cultivate is the one we have with the body carrying us through it.

Care for your oldest friend

Today, before asking your body to do one more thing for you, perhaps ask what you can do for it. Feed it something nourishing. Take it outside. Stretch. Rest. Place a hand over your heart. Book the massage you've been putting off. Breathe into the places you've been holding tightly.

Or simply say:

Thank you body.

Thank you for carrying me.

Thank you for adapting.

Thank you for staying with me.

I'm listening now.

And I'm learning how to be your friend, too.

Because nurturing your body isn't another item for your wellness checklist. It's caring for the one friend who will walk every single step of this life with you. And if you've forgotten how to listen, that's okay. Sometimes having someone create the space for you to slow down, receive and reconnect is where the conversation begins. That is a beautiful part of the bodywork, energetic work and therapeutic work I offer.

But whether you begin with a session or simply place your hand over your heart tonight, begin somewhere. Your body is already there. Perhaps it's time to say hello.😊✨