I just feel like this was beautifully written. I know some people love their bodies, and others do not. It is just honest in a way most people are not.
Something we were
withholding made us weak
Until we found it was ourselves.
I’m tired of withholding myself. Tired of it. Tired of not feeling good about myself or my reactions to situations, tired of having little energy and wondering why after doing very little. I’m tired of drawing into myself and wondering what I look like to someone — or everyone — else, or what I want to look like and how I’m failing that, or what I think someone else wants me to look like and how I might compare to that. It’s exhausting. I don’t even know how strong I could be because I’ve been withholding myself for so long, allowing some potentially great piece of me to stay dormant in the vain pursuit of looking good. Because that’s what it boils down for me: I haven’t let go of the hope that I will…
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