She walked up to me. The outward appearance of a seemingly warm smile greeted me. But I saw her critical eyes that looked me up and down.
Immediately I felt self-conscious. She knew it. She could tell I was sick. Who was I kidding? Every person in that room could tell I was sick.
I heard the judgement in her voice; a sly comment about my weight followed by a 'deep concern' in my wellbeing. The words stabbed my heart. My worst fears realized. These concerns that I had, they weren't simply my mind working on overdrive as it has been before; it was a reality.
I pulled my sleeves down even lower. Pulled my sweater around my waist tighter. Inched further back from the crowd. Lowered my head worried that people would be able to read into my deepest darkest thoughts simply by looking into my eyes.
My body does tell a story. It tells the story of my years of pain. It's an outward expression of my years of internal turmoil. It bares scars of what I have done and what has been done to me. It shows the pain that life has brought me. It shows my brokenness.
My body is a story book. It's a story that is exposed for the whole world to read and judge.
I worry about her.
She shouldn't shake like that.
Did you see her arm?
She used to be happier.
She's too thin.
Do you think she's okay?
She looks scared.
My body reveals a different story.
One that many people don't see at first glance.
My body shows victory. My body shows my resilience. Pain can be seen, but life is still abundant within it. Though I may be scared, the scars are healed and I prove that I was stronger than whatever tried to bring me down. It show's that though I was broken, I didn't fall completely apart.
So today I stand up confidently.
This is who I am.
Take it or leave it.
Immediately I felt self-conscious. She knew it. She could tell I was sick. Who was I kidding? Every person in that room could tell I was sick.
I heard the judgement in her voice; a sly comment about my weight followed by a 'deep concern' in my wellbeing. The words stabbed my heart. My worst fears realized. These concerns that I had, they weren't simply my mind working on overdrive as it has been before; it was a reality.
I pulled my sleeves down even lower. Pulled my sweater around my waist tighter. Inched further back from the crowd. Lowered my head worried that people would be able to read into my deepest darkest thoughts simply by looking into my eyes.
My body does tell a story. It tells the story of my years of pain. It's an outward expression of my years of internal turmoil. It bares scars of what I have done and what has been done to me. It shows the pain that life has brought me. It shows my brokenness.
My body is a story book. It's a story that is exposed for the whole world to read and judge.
I worry about her.
She shouldn't shake like that.
Did you see her arm?
She used to be happier.
She's too thin.
Do you think she's okay?
She looks scared.
My body reveals a different story.
One that many people don't see at first glance.
My body shows victory. My body shows my resilience. Pain can be seen, but life is still abundant within it. Though I may be scared, the scars are healed and I prove that I was stronger than whatever tried to bring me down. It show's that though I was broken, I didn't fall completely apart.
So today I stand up confidently.
This is who I am.
Take it or leave it.
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