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My legs are one of the most important parts of me. As a runner, a swimmer, a walker, hiker and lover of quick pace, my legs allow me to get around and I love them in all their paleness and length- I have a shorter torso and long legs, something I’ve hated-loved for a long time.

My legs also hold the majority of my scars. My left knee still has a quarter-sized scar from when I took off all the skin on my knee down to the bone. On my right leg a perfect half-circle exists from when I leaned onto the hot tailpipe of an Audi wagon in Switzerland getting some luggage out and got a pretty intense burn. I have a six-inch or so long scar up my left shin from when I shaved my leg into a bloody mess, although even I still can’t believe that I managed to do that. Once I fell onto a broken chair leg in a backyard and bled a lot, and there are smaller scars from just being rather clumsy.

Loving oneself as a whole is often difficult, so I tackle that problem by loving parts of myself that eventually add up to a whole.



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