While I was in treatment I was given Recovery Workbook by my one on one therapist. There were many sheets on which to detail the progression of my disease. When I was in active addiction I would try to write, … Continue reading
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to love myself.
To look at myself in the mirror and see beauty instead of flaws.
I’ve forgotten how to love myself.
To touch my flabby and cellulite covered skin and not hate it.
To rub my own feet with thick lotion and not wish that the heels were softer.
To hold my hips and wish I could remove all of the fat inside of them.
To trace my wrinkled hands across my ample breasts and hope that someday a man will behold their beauty again.
To gaze at my face in the mirror and not see wrinkles, but amaze at the brightness of my blue eyes and the perfect symmetry of my lips.
I’ve forgotten how to love myself.
To find that little girl that resides inside and tell her that she’s going to be okay.
That she is loved.
That she is free.
That she is important.
I’ve forgotten how to love myself, but I do hope in time I’ll be able to again.
“You will find that it is necessary to let things go; simply for the reason that they are heavy. So let them go, let go of them. I tie no weights to my ankles.
C. JoyBell C.
A few years ago I went through a major weight loss transformation and I became addicted to working out. I found that it didn’t bring the world to my feet and it most certainly didn’t bring me happiness. Sure, I liked the looks I got from men and women. I loved the highs of working out. But I was still looking for something to make me complete.
Since my injury, I’ve gained weight because I haven’t been able to move much. I hated being sedentary. It felt like prison. I ate a lot, but found that it didn’t bring me happiness. It didn’t stave off the desperation I felt, and the extreme loneliness. I’ve been trying my very best not to beat myself about it. I won’t.
I have begun eating healthier and the weight is coming off. I place my feet in gym shoes and set about walking the sidewalks of my apartment complex at least five times a day. I’m building stamina so that I can walk to the bus stop to get myself back to work in early August. Physical therapy is grueling but worth it.
I’ve decided I will not become addicted to food or the gym again. I will not worry about every piece of food that goes into my mouth. I will be mindful of my eating, but I will not beat myself up about having a piece of cake. A full life for me means walking outside in the fresh air, biting into a ripe nectarine, or watching my dog carry a stick that’s bigger than him. Yes, that’s a full life.
Dawn was Dylan’s hangover, for she treasured the dark. In the mornings, she missed the crackling of embers from a bonfire, sparklers lit just for fun, and the catching of fireflies in a Mason jar.
In her country home, she’d finally found peace. With that realization you’d think she’d found a love to share it with. Instead, she’d found it in her grandchildren, the scent of fresh brewed coffee, and wildflowers growing in her side yard.
Coffee in hand, Dylan sat on the back porch step. Morning washed over her, while she unscrewed the lid and let the fireflies go.
100 Words/Genre: I have NO idea
Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. It is an honor and a privilege to have Ms. Rochelle critique my work. Please be sure to go to her page and read their stories too. We are a rather eclectic group and the genres run the gamut.
I welcome kudos and criticism. Seriously, rip it up if you want.
If I loved you, life would be easy
There’d be no truth that I’d be scared of
I could walk through every valley
And you’d light me with all of your love
But I don’t love you, not like I want to
I don’t love you and that makes it hard
And every morning, I see how you watch me
And each night I know you feel it and it just breaks your heart
You’d make good money and come home early
And you’d kiss me and hold me each night
We would have children and they would be so beautiful
And we’d raise them and all would be right
But I don’t love you, not like you need it
I don’t love you, good as you are
And when I kiss you, I know that you can feel it
And I see it in your eyes, and it just breaks my heart
I wish to God I could change it, darling
Could make you the one
I will always have these regrets and wonder
What else I could have done
’Cause if I loved you, I could be happy
I would make you the light of my world
I wouldn’t wait, love, I’d marry you tomorrow
And we’d make love and I’d be your girl
But I don’t love you, much as I want to
I don’t love you, no, it would be a lie
And you deserve love, you’re better than a good day
And you’ll find it, but just not in my eyes
’Cause it ain’t here love, no
And it just breaks my heart
I look up to see Meg’s smiling face. She’s standing next to her father. They are arm in arm. She’s beaming; radiant. The sun hits her hair and it appears that it has been set fire. Roger is smiling ear to ear. In the background I can hear Matthew playing guitar and singing Edelweiss. For just a moment, I’m thrust back in time. I see her as she used to be. Three years old, cuter than a bug’s ear, and struggling to get her hand out of her father’s grip. Tears form in the corners of my eyes. My throat closes as I struggle to hold back tears. This is a happy day. Even with all the little stresses that have come with it.
I see her as our little Cindy Lou Who from Whoville. A girl with a tiny nose. It was so small, her little sunglasses would slide off of her face. She is so much like me, but she isn’t. She’s all woman. Brilliance, beauty, brains, and talent. I couldn’t be more proud of her. She and her father walk past me while Matt plays the song that bonded her to the first man in her life. As they pass me, I fall in line behind them. I look up at her fiance Chris. His eyes are brimming over with love. I’ve never seen anyone look at her like that. He truly does love her with everything he has. He’s a good man. First of all because he loves her. Secondly, because he loves her. Thirdly, because he loves her. That’s all we need to know. It’s all we’ve ever wanted.
I stand back and watch Roger give her away to Chris. He leaves Meg’s side and comes to stand next to me. He whispers, “Today is perfect. This is perfect.” He kisses me. I squeeze his hand, giggle ridiculously, and tell him, “I agree completely.” We hold hands during the ceremony. On a beach in Key West. Just like she wanted. I’m telling you, that girl always gets what she wants. The ceremony was perfect. The company was perfect. We had sand in our toes and the taste of the ocean on our lips. They exchange vows, smiles and rings. I reach for my momma’s hand and squeeze it. I finally knew how she felt the day I got married to Roger Darling. It was letting go, but it wasn’t. It was building a new family. A new life. For our Meg and Chris. For all of us.