The vines growing up my thighs represent womanhood, femininity, life, love.
My hips continue to widen as I age, the wolves foam at the mouth to get a bite. The trends say clean girl, gym girl, healing era, girl boss, my productive morning routine, day in my life, Pilates changed my life. And ever since I can remember, with the ebs and flows of the trends, I have always looked at my tiger stripes with disgust, anger, hatred. Iβve need breeding self hate since before I could do long division.
The trends say affirmations, meditation, healthy eating, drink your water, but Iβm lucky if I can make it to guzzle half a gallon.
I am made of coffee, redbull, and not eating til 3. I am pharmaceuticals on an empty stomach. I am unwashed hair and telling myself itβs healthier. I am melatonin to sleep and nightmares to wake. I am god damn nicotine. I am 21 and I feel like Iβm slowly killing myself. Like Iβm made to want to suffer.
Why is all of that so easy but health is so hard. And when did I get like this? Does it end like this?
There are vibes up my thighs, my hips, my butt, my boobs. My body is womanhood, femininity.
And I fear I am too much woman to take care of myself before everyone else.
Constantly at war with myself but with a smile on my face. When will putting myself first stop coming second?
Emotional, hormonal, moody, bipolar, what the fuck is the answer?
For generations men have created answers for us but what if we were raised wrong?
Raised for the men to indulge. For the men to eat.
There are vibes in my thighs.
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