Dear Future Daughter,

The world is going to lie to you. It is going to tell you that your body is a commodity. It is going to tell you in fact do not own it, that must give your body away as the rent you pay to this earth. That is a lie. Rent in fact, is disproportionate. You do not have to physically pay for physically taking up space; instead you pay by being kind, by lending a hand, by getting through the hard shit and leaving archives for your daughter. 
People will tell you that your body is the sum of your worth -- that too is a lie.
People will be aggressors in their faulty thinking that power is claimed when claiming someone else's body. 
These are the dark stories that don't seem to to have redemption in them.

In yoga, my favorite pose is plank. I feel strong in it. I feel stable. In fact it is one of the only poses that I can truly understand and connect with my breath. My heart is lifted from the ground, redemption. My feet are solid on the ground that is behind me, and in front of me, redemption. I feel safe in this pose. I also like plank pose because I feel powerful. It reminds me a lot of track and while the gun would go off, you jump -- no you pounce. At any moment when I not longer feel safe in plank, I know I can pounce, so I jump my feet to my hands, and my entire body is together again.

"The redemption," I will tell her, "begins when you decide that your body belongs to you." Not once will I ever utter that her body is a temple, because temples become ruins. You are a mountain though, I will suggest. Always evolving. Cracking at times, but never falling. You rise and rise and rise. But even then, I will hesitate telling you this, because your body is not a thing, things can be thrown away at anytime. You will know this, the moment you look at your body and don't feel the awe of your curves. It will be thrown away again when you ask for someone to love it more than you do so that you can maybe one day love it the same. The world will throw it away too into the hands of predators.

So I will tell her, stand in plank.
Feel the power.
Do you feel like a warrior yet?
Your body is a warrior and you are your body.

Rise sweet pea, and stand still.

Find your breath I will tell her. 
You can be still, it will not hurt you.
I know after he hurt you all you wanted to do with your body is for it to move,
so that you never have to know how it feels to be paralyzed again. 
Just hold on.
Breathe.
Pounce.

Pounce on the opportunity for redemption.
This is your story of redemption and how the world tried to take it away from you.