Mar 2018
kneading at a soft belly
warm and fragrant straight
out of the shower
like bread from an oven
they would have me eat
from my own side
before I could be deemed
acceptable for purchase
i curiously inform them
that i am no longer for sale
and drift into peaceful sleep
to the song of the wringing in their hands
warm and fragrant straight
out of the shower
like bread from an oven
they would have me eat
from my own side
before I could be deemed
acceptable for purchase
i curiously inform them
that i am no longer for sale
and drift into peaceful sleep
to the song of the wringing in their hands
After battling an eating disorder (I have practiced them all) for going on 18 years, I am now confident in saying that I am finally in true recovery. What that looks like, for me, is this. I am off the market of society; I am no longer buying what they are selling and I refuse to be a pawn stuck in a box. I love myself. I love my soft belly, because it carried my three beautiful children. I love my thick thighs because they are strong and hold my body as I dance. Societal standards now use the guise of "health" to allow us to slowly **** ourselves. I'm tired. Tired of playing this game. I don't want to gamble my life away to make other people feel comfortable. This is me, fat thighs and jiggly belly. And IDGAF.
