I am a stick. A skinny minny. A peanut. I am thin...ish. I have always been a small person. My mom says she gave me the perfect dancer's body, sans the chest. With that idea of perfection, I see it as failure when I have any bulge in my mid-section. I mean, I should have a six-pack, right?
And somehow the perfect dancer's body and large chest have managed to govern much of my self-perception and my experience with men. I have lived my life trying to meld my understanding of me into a content understanding of my body.
Maybe being a stick isn't so great after all...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment