A reflection of my physical body written at 18:53 on a wednesday

I am thinking about the idea of one’s physical appearance being so fleeting and merely an extension of one’s self.

Your entire identity in our society is based off of this exterior presence because a majority of the people you will meet on this earth will know little about the soul within you, simply from the 3 conversations you shared.ě

Your physical shell reflects what is happening in your head, permanentely or temporarily. Semi-permanent box dye that you’ll apply in a friend’s bathroom at midnight on a thursday or the tattoo you’ll get on a whim on a sunday afternoon, your best friend sitting by reading you passages from a book.

I tend to make decisions on my phyical self quite impulsively. Maybe it’s due to my history of disordered eating, the body dysmorphia and the self harm. I have lashed out at my physical shell so many times on behalf of my tortured mind, and by making these impulse changes, I am reclaiming this war zone, taking it back and turning it into the home I have taken so long to accept.

I must not let anyone else dictate what I can and cannot do with this vessel I am inhabiting it is not theirs to mold to thoughts ideas experiences and aesthetics that make me feel whole. They are not the ones living this life through the eyes of this body and therefore have no right over it.

I wish I could put away these insecurities regarding the judgement that others have of me and let myself physically evolve along with my etheral being because my aesthetic is constantly changing and my body in itself does not reflect that as much and I wish it did. I feel like if i could do everything I wanted to my body without fear of repercussion I would be so much more comfortable within the limits of this skin.

I am tired of starving and cutting and picking and staring and feeling so very small I want to illustrate and paint and hydrate and feed and feel as big and strong as i deserve.

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