I've been dieting, trying to work out healthy alternatives to my inclination to just not eat and just generally feeling down in the dumps about my appearance. This too will pass but sometimes it helps to write things out.
An exercise in self-exploration.
I am a woman.
I love being a woman.
I like the space around my waist where it begins to curve out into my hips.
I like my small feet.
I like the way my shoulders look when I’m topless.
I like the way my lips look with pink gloss on them, the same pink gloss that I’ve been wearing since I was 12.
I like having the door held open for me.
I like when Jeremiah puts his hand on the small of my back while we’re walking.
I like the weight of his body behind me, on top of me, beside me.
I like that my voice is light and girly.
I like that I’m my daddy’s girl.
I like that my mom and I can talk about being a mom and what to cook for dinner.
I like carrying my babies in my womb for months and months, having them all to myself.
I like bringing them into the world to meet their family, the people that already love them.
I like holding them to my breast and feeding them from my own body.
I hate being talked down to because my voice is light and girly.
I hate not being able to find adult sneakers because my feet are so small.
I hate that I can’t eat whatever I want whenever I want it.
I hate that my parents think I can’t handle things on my own.
I hate the medical community handling me like a child during my pregnancies and labors.
I hate that some men assume that I am manipulative just because I have boobs and a cunt.
And in the end, the pros greatly outweigh the cons.
Tonight when I wash my face before bed I’ll look in the mirror and be glad that my face is so feminine.
I’ll go into each of my children’s rooms and check on them.
I’ll be glad that I’m their mother, the only mother they’ll ever have.
I’ll go to bed with Jeremiah and be glad for the smell of him, the weight of him, the fact that I don’t have to carry his masculinity on my shoulders as he does on his.
I’ll fall asleep and have dreams of lovely books I have read, colors that I love, nightmares that haunt me.
I might wake up weeping softly, and even then I'll be glad that I can weep openly and freely…
Because I am a woman.