about to cry thinking about how comfortable im getting in my body and how much more im listening to it and how much i wanna show skin and be more naked and work out with more intentional actions. I never really talk about my survivorship (I don’t often want to, im okay with this), nor the two eating disorders that followed the 5 years of being used for my body as a child and the same 5+ years being beat in this body or the whole 20something years I spent in high functioning disconnection with my body. I don’t like the way some people hold me. I don’t like the way some people hold my emotions, it’s less about shame and more about I don’t wanna be looked at differently than who I am, I don’t wanna be held … wrong. held with different eyes different hands different mouths different mind. but I’ve taken more sexy pictures this summer then ever before and I understand working out more than ever before and I love food more than ever before and I feel better than ever before and it’s chaotic and I think about all the other 20 somethings younger or older than me who have their shit more together but I spent around 23 years not really in this body at all and I’ll be damned if my current self shouldn’t be proud or happy or hopeful or joyous or celebratory because I don’t have my dream job yet or my dream apartment as if u could fathom the work it took to get back into my body as if it were nothing at all, foolish behavior. childish stupid fucking metrics avg person could never get it anyways fuck I look like caring abt u #shoutoutsza20somethinguwillalwaysbethatgirl #idomybestthinkingwhenimcreatingandnotintherapy
