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Showing posts from October, 2017

My Body in Six Pieces

Hate
“No one is ever going to want to hold your hands if you keep picking at them like that.”     
“Tighten up that tummy.” “What’s wrong with your skin?” “Your legs are disgusting.” “Your test came back positive for HSV-1 and HSV-2.” “How many weeks along are you?”
I hate shorts. When my legs are exposed, I am no longer visible. Strangers can see my vitiligo and they stare. I feel magnetic and powerless. My legs are a portrait of a story they will never bother to read.
I hate that I’ve always had a stomach that my mother would constantly remind me to suck in because it would be more flattering that way. I hate that I once spent $36 on a two-week program called ‘Flat Tummy Tea Cleanse” because of Khloe Kardashian. I hate that I’ve now been asked twice if I was having a baby because being a woman who doesn’t have a flat stomach implies these things.
I hate that I still pick at the dry skin on my hands and wonder if it’s true that no one will ever want to hold them.
I hate that the weight I c…