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  • Writer's pictureTalia Cooper

My body is my temple so

I give her delicious treats— hot chips and warm brownies,

sweet crunching cucumber, bubbling soda, fresh bread with butter and honey


When she is tired I wrap her up in a blanket

When she wants to move I put on a pulsing beat

When she is hurting I get the heating pad


My body is my temple so I bedeck her in gold hoops and crop tops, in slouchy pants and gentle sweaters

My body is my temple so I tell her she is beautiful

My body is my temple so I do not scold her for what she wants and what she needs. I do my best. I apologize when I cannot


My body is my temple so I offer soft touches and soft words. Warm water and smooth oil


When she says “FIRE” I make space for rage

When she says “WATER” I curl up and let it flow

When she says “ICE CREAM” I crumble pretzels on top, just how she likes 


My body is my temple so I listen. Say thank you. And

prostrate myself before her



Image: honey on a honey spoon dropper thingy dripping into a jar
Image: honey on a honey spoon dropper thingy dripping into a jar

Where this came from: 

I used to feel the ick when I heard the phrase “My body is my temple” because it was always accompanied by food rules— how you shouldn’t eat “junk food” or sit around on the couch. It was a phrase that seemed to secretly be about morality and diet culture. 


I'm still not totally sold on the concept, but I’ve found myself enjoying the idea that treating my body like a temple only means treating myself with a little extra respect.


What do you think?


If you want to write your own version of “My body is my temple so…” I’d love to read it. (And even share it with others, if you give me permission).


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