I wish I had the power to create my own portrait, to convey both what I feel inside and what I want the world to see. They don’t come through. The truth is hard to face and that’s why I hate the camera lens. That’s why I don’t judge the selfie taker. There is a power in framing your own image, in showing the world what you want it to to see.
Up that hill, according to my overdramatic mind, was the decisive knowledge that would shape the decisions of my adulthood. Would my future be filled with hope, or would it be all dark tunnels, a claustrophobic coffin-like hallway until the final hibernation? Ya. That gloomy. Because I was twenty-three and convinced that I was infertile.
But no, we’re not all 6 ft tall, confident beauties with adorable smiles, sexy hoarse voices and endearingly honest senses of humour. I naively entertained the idea that, maybe here… here’s one for the ashkenazi girls. We can be tall, strong and gorgeous AF. That idea crumbled pretty quickly.
It was about coming to terms with the fact that NO, my body was NOT causing or going to cause a catastrophe, whether it be disgust or desire. It was about realising my body was not going to elicit any reaction from anybody, because my body was not for others to react to. It was for me.
It's almost summer. And you know what that means. Jean cutoffs. Tank tops. Crop tops. Rompers in floral or tribal print. Chambray everywhere. Don't worry. I too feel that same heat induced outbreak of nervous eczema that comes with having to expose more skin.
Stop. Stop trying to make yourself smaller and and flatter. JUST STOP. When you laugh you need your whole body, and the flatter you try to make yourself the sadder the world becomes. Don’t do that.
Maybe we slide into cliches like a love of a cat mugs and memes and unicorn onesies and maybe we talk insincerely about that hike we should take and that traveling we should do but we really only half mean it and hope that the adventure actually happens in a book.