To have lived this life of being bigger in body size than most girls has never been pleasant for me. To be out and see a cute guy and just hope that when he smiles in your direction it's cause he thinks you're cute too, and hope that he's not actually smiling cause he's mentally making fun of you...anxiety is my wingman, never leaving my side and filling me with doubt. I try to walk with a little confidence in hopes no one sees they anxiety rolling through me.
She never learned love.
The saying: you cannot love someone unless you love yourself first; comes to mind.
How do you go about loving the flesh covered in stretch marks and the faded cuts that were once so plain to see on your pale skin.
Sure these clothes you cover yourself in hide your mauled flesh from years of self abuse but they do little to hide your shape.
The thickness of your thighs.
How much your stomach sticks out
The flabby skin on your arms.
Because of this, mirrors are her enemies.
Self-loathing and Anxiety are her wingmen, never leaving her side..whispering evil, spiteful things in her ears..
Clothes never fit just right..they just cover her torn pages. But she still cries out, that for once, just once...she could learn to really love her body.
But it never comes..
It's okay to destroy her flesh because the clothing will always cover the scars, but never the shape of your body. They will never see the bloodlines on your skin because they're too busy staring at your shape to look for the torn flesh hidden just under that thin piece of cloth.
She will never know love because if no one, not even herself can love this body she inhabits..then who can?
YOU ARE READING
Her torn pages
General FictionThere's a saying..big girls need love too. And it's true.. But in this world, in this society. Your image is everything. unless you're one of the "Skinny" you're no one and people considered you disgusting. When you hope for love and think you've...
