I was probably 6 years old when I had officially heard the common expression, “The bee’s knees”. A teacher from my old elementary school gave me a circular sticker with a happy little bumblebee on it. “You’re the bee’s knees!” Was proudly displayed on the sticker. As I looked at the sticker placed against the clothing that was kissing my collarbone, I glanced back up at the woman. With wonder in my eyes, a sense of curiosity rushed through me.

  “It means you’re spectacular!” She triumphantly stated as she walked away. I smiled. Because as a child, stickers, and being complimented was all I needed. It was all anyone ever needed while they were young. But, I looked down at my knees. I didn’t feel spectacular. I felt like an average kid. I didn’t even know if bees actually had knees or not! But the sticker was all I needed in order to prove I was the bee’s knees, right? Yes. My self worth was depicted by a plastic, circular label, with sticky adhesive on the back, and a motivational insect on the front.

  Over the years, I’ve learned many things. Like, bees have segmented legs with parts consisting of a coxa, trochanter, femur, tibia, and taurus. The joint between them is the literal bees knees. I’ve also learned that I don’t need a label or inspirational sticky plastic to assure my existence of radiance and incredibility. I’ve got a body and I’ve learned that my body is going to roam the Earth for a very long time, so I’m going to learn to love it.

And accept my moles.
My freckles.
My acne.
My rosy cheeks.
But my eyes are so lovely.
So are my hands.
My curves.
My personality.
My heart.

I love me for me. I am the bee’s knees.