it’s taken me 26 years to realize that my body is not a consolation prize.
i’m a package deal
so much time
feeling hurt, insecure, worthless
so many years of fragile self-image,
the product of years of rejection, exclusion, erasure
so many years faking it in hopes of making it
so many years placing my self-worth in the validation of other people
wondering what i see in myself that others don’t
when it seems like you’re the one who could possible love you, you begin to second-guess your sight
so much time and effort put into healing
only to be reminded of the delicacy of my esteem
every time i turn around, something else reminding me of who i am, where i belong, don’t get too ambitious
so much time rebuilding
i hope i’m past that now
every day is a battle
today i’m winning.
