cURvY mE

I’ll keep my curves, thank you very much.

I don’t need you to straighten them out,

press them in, or

lift them up.

I like them soft, round, off-kilter,

imperfectly perfect just as they are.

I no longer need to iron them out to

look like an object you approve of,

that fits nicely on your arm

so you can feel powerful and in control.

I’ve spent a lifetime adjusting so as not to scare you.

The truth is my curviness scares the fuck out of you,

something I knew before I knew it.

The days of making myself small so you can feel big,

of looking for someone to save me,

giving my power to those weaker than me

are over.

I now see I’m the strongest person I know.

I’ve sat alone, suffering,

sunken to the dark depths of my soul,

with no bandage, no caress.

Just me and the Great Mystery.

And no doubt I will do it again.

So yes, I am strong.

But whereas fear used to make me strong like steel,

now, unafraid, I am strong like the willow.

I trust the circles and cycles and bendy ways I don’t understand.

I breathe,

I undulate,

I allow the flow,

so the winds of life don’t break me.

I don’t need you to take fat from my thighs

and put in my breasts for god sake!

I’m well aware that

my lips are too thin,

boobs too small,

nose too big,

butt too round.

And I don’t give a flying fuck,

or a good goddamn.

Not one more second will be wasted

on trying to be who someone else thinks I should be.

Every precious moment

will be spent being who I am.

I love me, all of me,

especially the unlovable parts.

I will love those so hard.

I will love the hell out of them,

love them until they are lovable.

I will never allow pop culture

to lobotomize my “me”

until I’m a shell with fake everything

and a knock-off Prada bag

I bought with a maxed-out credit card

so I could look like who I’m supposed to.

Fuck that!

There are no holes in my wholeness

for your toxic fixing to seep through.

You can keep your knife,

your anti-aging,

anti-cellulite,

anti-wrinkle,

anti-everything-unique-to-me

cream.

You are wasting your time with me.

I won’t be framed, frozen, straightened, flattened, dulled,

ironed out, sucked in, or contorted

to fit in your box.

Curves and boxes don’t mix.

And I am a curve,

with unpredictable,

inconvenient intuition

that just might out you.

I will never again put a lid on it

to make you feel safe.

I am lidless, curvy, everything.

I am ME.

I don’t fit.

I am not supposed to.

I long ago made it off the rat wheel

of starving to make myself

and remorsefully binging because

I didn’t, couldn’t, or wouldn't fit.

I will never go back.

I stand before you a verb

of cultivated, hard won BALANCE,

no addictions.

nothing to hide.

Considering where I came from

that just may be a modern day miracle.

It certainly makes me a

freak of nature to those

who don’t understand the

great power of self-awareness;

and a fine specimen to those who do.

From the invisible parts you’ll never see,

to the outside which you surmise, size-up,

and approve or denounce,

I am real,

alive,

ever-evolving,

sometimes messy,

not always pretty,

but always beautiful,

the most beautiful,

incomparable version

of the one and only

ME.