A piece over on xoJane is giving me so much inner fortification today.
“YOU are OK. I am OK. We are all so fucking OK.”
Fuck yes, we are! Tree trunk thighs, gapped teeth, four eyes and all. Those things I hated when I was 10, are all still with me.
23 years of war waged against my body, and we’re still together. Sometimes, we forge a tentative peace treaty, but then, shots are fired by way of a new bathing suit, or whatever, and I’m back on the front lines. It’s a nonstop battle.
Reading things like this though;
“Love the 10-year-old you who just went for it, awkwardly, blindly, fucking it up, but still going for it, bad hair, bad teeth, bad clothes, and you BELIEVED and you stumbled but there was a part of you that just knew.You just knew how rad you are.”
These are the things that make those tough days a little easier.
“What about me? I’m motherfucking great, that’s what.”
MOTHERFUCKING GREAT, THAT’S WHAT.