Night blogging: body

I can’t remember the last time I felt at ease in my body. Possibly it’s before I can even remember, or that the feeling of disconnection is so strong that it erases the love I once felt. I look at this shell and I can’t see myself. My insides don’t match the form I now stride around in.

Sometimes I forget what I look like and then I am shocked into reality when I catch a glimpse of myself. My inner self feels beautiful, strong, sexy, and intelligent. My outer self is… A smudged version of what I feel.

This disconnection between who I feel I am and what I look like confuses me. Am I so twisted by societal influence that I can’t find my body amazing? Am I missing something? I am told over and over that I am adequate. I have good features and a nice frame. I merely shrug when complimented, because I honestly feel no attachment to the looks. I do not look in the mirror and smile at my myself.

Shouldnt I greet my own face as if it’s a long lost friend? Shouldn’t I give myself the same treatment as someone I love?


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