I have always been fond of the term thunder thighs, because it sounds
Like my thighs are laced with the dna of O’roro Storm, cutting the skies with thunderous determination
Like my thighs know some secret incantations that could summon any weather at will
Like the rubbing of my thighs is a sacred dance calling on the rain gods to quench the thirst of a drought-ridden land.
Like the rubbing of my thighs is whispering, “Let me sing you the song of my people”
Like the strength of my thighs is a tribute to Amazonian warriors
Like the strength in my thighs is to carry resilience, healing and love
Like my thighs were made this way with purpose, on purpose
I have always been fond of the term thunder thighs, because it sounds like my thighs are enchanted, superheroic and made just right
Isabelle Masado writes about body compassion on her blog "The Dear Body Project". She knows all too well that the personal is the political, is the community. As such, there is no discussing body compassion without talking about the assault on black bodies, trans women, and people with disabilities. Her mantra is, "How can I live in a way that makes room for you too"? She writes to examine, to heal, to redeem.