It's 12:30am but sometimes...

Sometimes I hate my body. I hate it with a viciousness that’s frightens me at times.

Sometimes I think; “I hate my body, I hate my body, I hate my body, I hate my body!”

And then sometimes I think that “I hate my body!”
Might just be code for; “I hate myself for putting my body into a situation it can’t cope with!”

Like leaving it 5 hours instead of 3 between meals and causing the stomach cramps and back aches that inevitably follow a break from the meal plan. “I hate my body!” Is a lie, a misdirection to distract myself from the truth. I hate myself for being stupid enough to skip a snack and putting my body through this pain.

Like leaving an illness till it’s tearing my body apart because I don’t want my sister to judge me for “being sick all the time.” Having a cyst that requires surgery or a flu so bad I can barely function before I see a professional. Waiting till the pain is unbearable. “I hate my body!” Is bullshit, a distraction from the truth; I hate myself for not being able to push through my anxiety like a normal person. For being weak willed and for being weak.

The truth is, maybe I do hate my body, but a lot of the time my hatred for me far outweighs that. But it’s easier and more acceptable for a woman to say “I hate my body!” Than “I hate myself!” So I say that instead because;

“I hate my body!” Is an easy fix.

“I hate myself!” Is not.

He like to call me Peaches when we get this nasty

-don’t worry, I’m present, I’m here
-“you deserve to be loved big and loud…this is when you break into song”
-a huge apartment by the beach or a shoe box in bedstuy smh
-had a whole daydream about me and [REDACTED] and that one time…almost I forgot I was in a library full of people
-“something about you and red pumps. It’s criminal”
-I am trying my best to be good.
-I cooked jollof rice for the first time in a long time. Mainly cuz I don’t feel like leaving my study corner to go open the door for the delivery man.

Stay dry my loves