fall on your body more


Split-lip January, says my mother. Rip-kneed, wide-eyed birthday month. Turn nineteen, spend all of January falling in love, choking up your heart, asking for more. How can your body stand you? How can your body stay with you through this war you wage on it? Put the bullets down, take your heart home, Goddamn it, Goddamn it, just leave your body alone.

Listen: it’s not enough to burn in effigy.
You’ve got to take down the whole damn ship.

I’m starting to fall more in love with my body. Learning how to accept it for just how it is. No, I’m not the size 00 wearing 112lb girl that I was when I was younger. That doesn’t make my body any less beautiful. Now I get to love the little curves and bumps that I have. My thighs touch each other, my butt jiggles when I walk, my stomach isn’t flat, my boobs will never be big, I’m pale as can be, and I’m short. But, I love every little bit of myself. 

33071) I can’t stand people who tell me they wish they had to restraint to eat as little as I do. Oh, so you want to be so weak that you can’t even walk upstairs to your bedroom? You want to have such low blood pressure that your body parts fall asleep if you stay in one position for more than a minute or two? You want to faint or nearly faint every time you stand up? You want to have anxiety attacks when faced with food you weren’t mentally prepared for? No you don’t. You don’t want this so shut up.