In Time

Years of therapy have done little to make loving myself easy. I'm not sure when things went awry; it could have been the mean neighborhood boys calling me fat on a daily basis. Early in my life I remember sitting in the backyard and yanking on the flesh of my upper leg in disgust. I was not good enough, or so I thought.

This thinking is hard to uncoil. The edges are sharp and have cut deeply into my psyche leaving scars. During the last six months, little by little I have learned that I am worth the effort to care for myself. I record everything I eat and drink. I walk. I choose to walk in the woods and by the sea. I breathe, infused with gratitude. Grateful that I have the means to take care of myself. Knowing I am worth it and good enough will come in time.