Friday, July 8, 2011

I'll be waiting for your apology.

I am not going to cover my skin so that you feel more comfortable. I am going to hug it. I am going to wrap it in satin and spandex. I will wear something that molds to me like it has been painted on. I am sexy naked and I am sexy clothed. I am not going to justify taking my own photo with a weak "I felt pretty today." I feel pretty most days. I feel fucking hot as hell most days. And on the days when I wake up and can't seem to get comfortable inside my traitorous wardrobe, I rebel against it. I decide that today is naked Wednesday and no clothes will touch my strong, protective skin. So no, I am not going to buy your swim skirt. So that if you accidentally glance at me, you don't have to see my thick thighs slide together suggestively. I will not wear sleeves in the dead heat so you don't have to see my stretch marked flesh. It's beautiful. Like lace and love and pink newness all wrapped around the strength of my muscles. I am not going to talk about what a self respecting fat girl would wear. Because when I used those words I did not respect my self, my body. I was apologizing for my size, for my sex, for everything about me. I was sorry that I was not your ideal of beauty and needed you to forgive me. Then I realized that most of you did not blame me for my own shape. I loved my flesh and bone and skin and that made you love me. So fuck those of you who are disgusted by me. I am not sorry. I am not sorry that I can look at my reflection and smile at what I see. I am not sorry that when I put on my new red-hot hot-pants, not a single moment of insecurity hits me. I am not sorry when I am dripping with sweat from a night spent moving to a rhythm that pulls me. I am sorry that you are not happy. It hurts to see you, half my size and hating every solid piece of you. It angers me to hear you say that you are too fat for your skin to be showing because, when you say it about you, you are saying it about me. I am sorry that I have to lose you as a friend because your insecurities keep hurting. I decided once upon a time that I loved me. It was an easy choice to only feel good about the body that keeps my soul alive, and I am not fucking sorry.

No comments: