i am disturbed by the insinuation that self-love
is resolute
that it is a destination
that once you have arrived, there can be no reversals,
no oscillations
no moments of doubt.
an infallibility of sorts.
somehow, momentary, sometimes cyclical, lapses into
grief
the moments where you might
crouch in the depths of the toilet bowl
stuff your body
cry at tipping the scale
pinch
cut
burn
or suffocate
.
then you have failed.
betraying body-positivity
failing the self-love revolution
babes, throw that whole notion away
our healing “comes in waves” some days
“the wave hits the rocks
and that’s okay,
that’s okay, darling
you are still healing”[1]
its okay to vacillate,
to be in despair one day
and in love the next
the moments of doubt, do not detract from the journey
just as you’ve lost the will to breathe
you can wake tomorrow
and be filled with life.
be patient with yourself
you are not beholden to the unrealistic expectations
of those who’ve never lived in your skin
oscillate if you must.
[1] ‘be gentle with yourself’, Ijeoma Umebinyuo
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