Notes to My Hip: A Love Letter to the Joint That Carried Me Here

Dear Hip,

I’ve been meaning to write you this for a long time — long before surgery, long before the pain took up residence, long before I realized we were reaching the end of our season together.

This is my love letter to you…
the joint that carried me through a lifetime before I even understood how much you did for me.

So here it goes.

🌿 Dear Hip, thank you.

Before anything else — thank you.

You were my quiet partner in every step I ever took.
You carried me through childhood, womanhood, motherhood, heartbreak, breakthroughs, moves, moments, mistakes, and miracles.

You were there for all of it.

You held me upright when I didn’t think I could stand.
You kept me moving when life asked me to keep going.
You steadied me through journeys I wasn’t ready for and experiences I’ll never forget.

You weren’t perfect.
Neither was I.
But together, we made it here.

💔 I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you sooner.

I didn’t understand your language at first.

I didn’t know the difference between:

  • growing pains
  • warning signs
  • and the quiet whispers of a joint that had worked too hard for too long

I didn’t know how much you were holding up when everything around me felt heavy.

You told me gently at first.
Then louder.
Then in ways I could no longer ignore.

Pain is a terrible communicator, but you did the best you could with what you had.

And I heard you — eventually.

🌙 Letting you go broke my heart in ways I didn’t expect.

I didn’t know I’d grieve you.
But I did.

Because surgery isn’t just medical — it’s emotional.
It’s the moment you look at a part of yourself and say:

“Thank you for everything…
but you don’t have to carry this for me anymore.”

It’s a goodbye.
A release.
A quiet honoring of what has been.

I never wanted to lose you.
But I needed to heal.

And healing sometimes means surrender.

🌸 Your replacement came with fear… and hope.

I won’t lie — I was scared.

Scared of the unknown.
Scared of the new.
Scared of not feeling like myself.
Scared of the recovery, the vulnerability, the rebuilding.

But you know what surprised me?

Hope.

Hope walked in alongside fear and whispered,
“You’re not being abandoned — you’re being renewed.”

And that changed everything.

💗 Now, dear Hip… I’m learning to love the new version of you.

This new hip — this beautiful, shiny, bionic possibility — is not you.
But it is here because of you.

You brought me to the moment where healing became necessary.
Where strength became visible.
Where courage became louder than fear.

The new hip is not a replacement for you.
It is the continuation of you.

A bridge.
A blessing.
A beginning disguised as an ending.

✨ What I want you to know, old friend, is this:

You did not fail me.
You protected me.
You held me.
You carried me farther than I ever realized.

And now, a new part of me gets to carry your legacy forward.

Every step I take with this new hip…
is because of every step you took before it.

You got me here.
You got me through.
You did your job with devotion and grit and a loyalty I will never forget.

So, dear hip…

Thank you.
I release you.
And I honor you —
today, tomorrow, always.

Journal Prompt: Honoring Your Own Body’s Journey

Take a quiet moment, a deep breath, and write to the part of your body that has carried you through the hardest seasons.

Ask yourself:

  • What has this part of my body held for me that I never acknowledged?
  • How has it protected me, supported me, or kept me going when I felt like giving up?
  • What emotions come up when I think about letting go of the old version of my body?
  • What am I ready to release?
  • What am I welcoming in with this next chapter of healing?
  • If my body could speak to me right now, what would it say?
  • And if I could speak back — with honesty, grace, and love — what would I say?

Let yourself write without editing.
Let the truth come out.
This is your moment to honor where you’ve been…
and open the door to where you’re going next.