Thursday, March 24, 2016
I don't like my body. I have never liked my body. I am still shocked that some people see it as desirable even. I made major life decisions around my changing my body. I injured myself because I wanted to change my body. The kind of injury that will never heal. The kind of injury that only happens with recklessness or negligence. The kind of injury that I could have prevented, if I didn't feel the need to have a different body.
I have a square chest and broad shoulders, a thick neck and big head/hands/feet, but short legs. I am built like a bulldog in many respects. I have never been in a fight in my life, but only because I could easily scare people. I hated this. I took steps to change my body. I forced myself to masochistically enjoy being going without food. I got hooked on cigarettes. I refused to exercise. I hoped that forcing myself to become thin would help. I wanted a body that I could love. I lost weight, a lot of it. It hasn't changed much.
I still long for a body i can love.
I know I won't get it.
I'm trying to love this body.
It deserves love right?
The same body that has hurt, has harmed, has humiliated, has been hurt, has been harmed, has been humiliated, is worthy of love. Maybe not from anyone else. But from me. If I can't love the only thing that is truly mine, can i really love at all?