Glances in the mirror move instinctively to the tops of your arms
and the extra flesh that you have come to despise.
Skirts and shorts that once held memories of a childish joy
now eat into your flesh as the edges strain to contain what’s inside.
Your ass could compete with that of a Kardashian and yet
you can’t help but notice the rows of dimples that mar the smoothness of your skin.
But there are days
There are moments
There are seconds
When you see yourself clearly.
You forget about the images of yourself burnt into your mind
And it comes as no surprise that your clothes feel tighter and your thighs are tender.
For its own sense of safety
Your body is creating its own armour.
Not of steel or silver but skin, muscle, fat.
Soft and supple, but protection nonetheless.
You are told that the sugar you consume makes you feel better, at least for a moment
but in truth, it is used to fuel the warrior you are becoming.
It becomes the protection you need to soften the spontaneous blows of day to day pain,
the memories of what once was.
As you look down at your body, quietly whispering, ‘how could you betray me like this?’
She replies, ‘Because we are so much more than this one moment in time.’
