Skip to main content
sometimes i feel so uncomfortable in my own skin.  staring down thirty and i still have a hard time saying "i accept."  i accept you, i accept me, i accept flaws and imperfections and meltdowns and and and and and.

it goes on and on, right?  always something new.  new blindspots are always illuminated (oh i didn't know).

it's hard to be enough.  i guess the truth is, i'm never enough.  it's why i don't get my worth from myself, it's why we always feel empty.

i think, to understand what lights you up, to know what makes you happy, it's extremely valuable, especially in current conditions.  i would say most people don't know what truly makes them happy.  social media would tell you it's probably food, a skinny body, or giving zero fucks.  and that's not possible right?  it will always matter what people think, because it will always matter what we think.  it's not the ONLY thing that matters, but sometimes i wonder if we are losing a part of ourselves when we feel the need to constantly show all of our bodies in a need to say "this is normal and it's okay" is it possible to be a body positive feminist and not show my stomach on my instagram?  are we, as females, losing something precious by needing to throw our bodies out in public in an effort to normalize how they look?  i haven't noticed a lot of men needing to do similar.

i guess my question is, are we still focused on the wrong thing?

at the end of the day, my body is just that, a body.  i've seen bodies expire, i've seen bodies break, i've seen bodies be tucked and toned and lifted, and at the end of the day, month, year, it doesn't do a damn thing.

is it your body that you need to embrace, or does it go deeper?  by focusing on the stretch marks, curves, and body hair -- do we lose sight of our humanity?  is our humanity truly tied up in our looks?  god help us if that's the case.  i struggle with my body, everyone does.  medications have made my weight fluctuate, i'm always happiest when i'm about ten pounds lighter than i am now.  but i'll tell you now, my struggles as a person, as a mom, as a woman- they are NOT my stretch marks, curves and body hair.

it's true that our looks do not determine our worth, but can we not stop there?  can we remember that it is not our humanity that is tied up in our looks?  can we push past the surface level (literally and figuratively)

your life is short.
your body will break.
what are you focused on?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

treat it.

to everyone who has never been touched by suicide,

i get it.  i used to be like you too.  here are the most common views of suicide i either heard or personally held growing up:

that person is selfish
that person is crazy
that person is a coward
they wanted to die
they were depressed for a long time and finally went through with it
there are always warning signs, so people know it's coming
that it's preventable
THAT IT WOULDN'T AFFECT ME


there is this social stigma around depression, suicide, etc.  i can't tell you what it is like to not be able to talk openly about my husband's death.  to see people either openly or privately distance themselves from my pain, search for reasons that he did it beyond the fact that he was ill and we didn't catch it in time, connect dots that aren't connected.  all so they can convince themselves that they will never know the pain, and i honestly hope they don't- but it's possible they will.  i know people whose lives…

dreams.

to my love,

i hope you know how much i miss you.  the words, of course, fall short.  but there they are, just the same.  i.miss.you.  i told addy that you and elly can live in our hearts forever, but this of course is a lie.  death is permanent and there is no living to be done once the breathe leaves our bodies.  you are not living on in our hearts, minds, or souls.  there is no living to yet be done for you.  instead we are left with our memories which time will eventually dull.  numbing ourselves to the very sense of you.  it is that way for me with my mom, my memories of her are stunted and few and we had eight years together.

does it bother you to know the only real remembrance your children will have of you is seen through my eyes and my hearts?  the sharp reality of their dad is forever lost to them.

people are trying to instill hope in me in regards to my future.  i know they mean well but it is coming off condescending.  no one but my own being knows my pain.  i am not here…
Dear Cavs,

Our playoff season started the day my five week old daughter, Elly, passed away, twelve days later my husband also died suddenly.
Your road to the finals, so fraught with emotion was also the start of a very difficult, seemingly impossible journey for me.

I started watching at game five... when we were down 3-1, I thought for sure that we would lose that game- when we won, all of a sudden- I cared.  When so many lights had gone out for me there was all of a sudden very small glimmer of hope and dare I say satisfaction possibly ahead.

It would have seemed from the circumstances that I shouldn't care whether we won or lost, so many things in my life didn't hold their meaning anymore- but I did.  I couldn't help it.  The enthusiasm was infectious.  These games gave  me hope.

I watched as you won game five and game six and I'll never forget seeing Kyrie on the bench after six holding up his seven fingers.... Here we go.

I almost regretted getting invested as I …