5 September 2008, 10:27 AM
I never believed my Ten Year Reunion would come.
It's four years gone.
My faded jeans don't fit the way they did
five years ago. I find my washboard has diminished
imperceptibly to a soft-sided hamper, spills over denim
whose dimensions have defined the entirety of my person
since highschool. I begin to realize the efficacy of a corset,
surrounded as I am by so many calorie counters
and thighless waifs. Whose consent I seek to be a woman,
as my body and mind define womaness, I cannot say.
I recall the recent, admiring words of a well-meaning friend--
he said I'd not changed a stitch in fourteen years.
I know better. I have.
What if he could see the hard-body-gone-soft with years
and child-bearing, as it should, as is not allowed
in this age of silicone and suction, of Atkins and all-protein
diets which rob the body of years and deliver something
so much less than life? What of his approval then?
What of affirmation I choose to take from such insinuations?
Inspired by The Weekend Wordsmith
4 comments:
Terribly sad. :( Thanks though for sharing!
I think its interesting the perception of someone who knows us well and doesn't feel we've really changed and the changes we see ourselves. But then both views are true....
It's sad when people, who we feel ought to know us well, miss the essence of who we are so completely...
It's not all that- he didn't miss the essence of me. He hadn't seen me in 14 years. It was just really interesting to hear him say I hadn't changed a wink, when I struggle pretty nearly constantly about all the ways I know I have changed. Of course, we're usually our own worst critic, so it was good to hear that, from a distanced perspective, I haven't changed so very much. The struggle comes in when I wonder if I'd be ok with it if I *had* (physically) changed a lot. Why does a person's size define so much of him/her?
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