Sure sure, this photo is a thirst trap (and I’m 39 so that’s already a feminist STATEMENT) but very VERY real talk: I have spent so much of my life in the depths of sorrow, grief, and self-blame; truly loathing this one and only body of mine, missing out on irreplaceable experiences just to avoid being physically observed.
Then the *moment* I meaningfully healed that disordered part of my psyche? My body was hit with a ulcerative colitis — a debilitating disease that robbed me of my life force. Thus the work began all over again…
I am so relieved and proud to say that after 20 years of all kinds of adversities, I am healed mentally, and cured physically.
It was a war.
But I look back upon it and acknowledge that I faced it like a soldier.
So sure sure— this thirsty photo might appear lame on the surface, but it represents multiple layers of freedom and celebration.
I purchased this swimsuit last spring from an ostomy website so that I could swim in the last few weeks of my bag-life. But I KEPT it because
1. It’s hella cute and
2. It reminds me that being fully alive is truly worth fighting for.
Fight on, fellow warriors.
I am so relieved and proud to say that after 20 years of all kinds of adversities, I am healed mentally, and cured physically.
It was a war.
But I look back upon it and acknowledge that I faced it like a soldier.
So sure sure— this thirsty photo might appear lame on the surface, but it represents multiple layers of freedom and celebration.
I purchased this swimsuit last spring from an ostomy website so that I could swim in the last few weeks of my bag-life. But I KEPT it because
1. It’s hella cute and
2. It reminds me that being fully alive is truly worth fighting for.
Fight on, fellow warriors.
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