17.02.20 | 6:18 pm

it has always been difficult for me to be in my body. to sit with it. to be comfortable with it.

tonight, after thirty-five minutes of yoga, i lie in corpse pose, and i allow my hands to travel across my body. they rest on the space where my thighs meet my torso, that untouched, soft, hidden bit of skin. and i like it.

i like how open my shoulders feel after these gentle moves, how strong my legs feel after sitting in a yogic squat.

i want to appreciate more of my body. more of what it has given me, enabled me to do. i don't want to look at it in disgust or disappointment anymore. but it is a long, hard road.


i am not entirely sure where my lack of self-worth comes from. my friends even remark on how i am constantly striving to be better, but -- and this is the important bit -- concurrently diminishing myself in the process, hating and chastising myself for not being perfect to begin with.

i am always bogged down with the idea that i am never, can never, never will be enough, no matter how hard i try.


i want to be outside of myself. when i read things i've written, i greatly prefer the ones that focus on the things going on outside of me. the people around me.

when i read the entries where i am in my head, i can feel that stress rise in my body again.

but i need to focus on the real. the stable.


i am ashamed of recent actions. but i can move forward. and i can move on.

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