One time I let myself get possessed. Not by Spirit. By a person. And I became theirs. Their possession. And at first I was celebrated, loved. Adored. Shown-off and admired. Fingers tracing skin I\’d grown uncomfortable in but was learning to love again.
And as quickly as I was built up, I was torn down. Shamed for sharing. Shamed for being proud. Shamed for loving my body.
Where I had been celebrated, now I was told how disgusting I was for sharing. Now I was only for one person. And while all our intimate moments certainly were meant for us alone, the scars and ripples and muscles I\’d built over years of life are mine to share. To explore. I want people to see it\’s OK to bear (and bare) the stripes of motherhood and the work put in to build lats that carry their own bragging rights in a summer tank.
I was shamed for sharing my body, the hard work I put in, the positivity I try to instill in my girls. It came crashing down.
I\’ve learned valuable lesson. I\’m not to be owned. I\’m not to rely on others for confidence or self-esteem or praise. People are not to be trusted with a fragile psyche. And let\’s be real: I am fragile.
But I am not a possession. I am no longer possessed.
I am beautiful.
You are beautiful, what you’ve done with your body and how you’ve transformed is an inspiration to many, myself included. You deserve SO MUCH MORE than to be someones possession, I’m so proud of you for turning the page, moving on and loving yourself!!
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I’m glad you didn’t give up on me. Thanks for being the bestest friend… someone we shall travel. Boston isn’t really that far…