"It took me a long time to realize that my partners were having *** with me in part because of the way my body looks, not in spite of the way my body looks."

"He, it was assumed, needed food if he was hungry. His hunger was helpful: a way to stay active and accomplish things.

But my hunger was the enemy – something to restrain, control, and master, lest, God forbid, I become less aesthetically pleasing."

"Even today, I have a lot of trouble figuring out if I’m hungry or not. I often can’t tell until I’m starving. I don’t trust those little inklings of hunger I have before the starving stage, since anything outside of mealtime is supposed to be quelled by a ******* piece of fruit.

Over time, [I was taught] that I should decide what to eat with my brain, not my stomach. So eventually, my stomach just gave up."

We should let ourselves let go of things more often
Not only things that don't serve us, not just our worries
I need to practice letting emotions go
Letting people go
Letting grudges and pain go
Let it all escape my body
Escape my being
I need a freedom button
A release switch
An escape route
A quick fix
I'm out of long fixes
I've been in intensive therapy for over two years now
I'm sleepy
And I want my freedom back
I want to release and escape and I need to breathe
Breathe More

Synonyms hurt

The best time to write poetry is when it heals you, when you finish typing or writing, and you can inhale a new breath of air, of emotion, of feeling, and seeing. How lucky am I to know what a release such as that feels like. How my creative energy can leave me for so long, only to return one night at 2:00am, when I'm supposed to be deep in a deep, lilac slumber. How fortunate am I to know the power of words, and the power of actions. To be able to pair these things equally together and create blossoming life through paint, through writing, through my own mere existence.
I have been lost before, and I will be once again, but on some fragile nights, I will have a small epiphany, write it out on the page, and I will be all the better for it. I will know where I stand, who I am, what I believe, who I believe in, and where I am going.

I sit inside
Out my window is the moon
The presence that draws me from my most concious worries
Health, safety, fertility, image, curiousity
Why am I the way I am?
It is my experiences that make who I am, logically I know
For there to be a genuine magic, somewhere, I wish
I have a strange glimmer of hope, to bring that sparkle and magic closer to me
To revel in something greater than myself, my existence, my geographic location
Just once
I wait
And I worry
And I worry and wait
I don't think she would be proud of this, the moon,
I think she communicates with me, when I need it, when I believe it
I used to talk to spirits through my window as a child
I believed it was real, simply because I believed
There wasn't any crystal clear truth, I simply felt it
The moon brings me through the same window now
Her craters, and dips, her waning and waxing
How I have so many desires to be with her, so far away
Some nights I try to rise above all of these emotions, but my worries bring me back to Earth
A virus right now is spreading, killing many it encounters
If I believed in the power of God as strongly as I want to, maybe I'd feel some comfort or safety.
I'm open to anything, let that be known
I used to worry about my appearance so much, but I know see my actions will speak louder than my beauty
I am a lover, deep down, I crave it, I've let love absolutely destroy me, I've banked on it, I've thought about it, I've needed it, I've had it, I've lost it, let it go, destroyed it
And I've waited for it
Now, these relationships have a hazy linen over them, I can retrieve them with pictures and heavy introspection, but some part of me doesn't enjoy going back
How do I move forward each day with the thoughts of yesterday with me
And how do I do so without the thoughts of yesterday
I try not to be greedy, I try to give, I try to do what is right, and if I do what is wrong, I learn.
There aren't many mistakes I can make with my existence, I'm curious every day
I love someone around me every day
Romantically, I wish I was allowed to be close to those I want
But for now staying home is what is recommended, what's best
I miss going out, I miss getting tipsy at bars, I miss my skinny girl friends, I miss my best friends Angell and Grace, I miss driving to my dietitian and having two hours alone in my car every week...every other week
I miss seeing my therapist and my favorite teachers, I miss having reasons to create, I miss nannying, my job, and art museums in the city
I miss visiting E+an and his house in the city, I miss not being isolated
And the moon, she reminds me that all of those things aren't so far from me, because somehow she is, and yet she is right outside my bedroom window.
She is covered by clouds, and the dark midnight sky, but she is there, and she speaks a perspective I desperately seek, and I am grateful. And I do not live in fear.