Sometimes a word is enough...
Jan. 16th, 2005 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matilda36...when the wound is old, deep and never properly attended.
Great evening dancing last night. My dad and Giuliana come with. They sit most of the evening, but they seem to enjoy themselves. Then he comes out with a joke: 2Are you doing a quick course in body co-ordination?" My instinctual answer has been: "I have been waiting all evening for this joke."
We quickly managed to deflate the situation, but It has brought me back to my body. I am tall, I have hormonal problems and so I am very hairy for a woman, and I am overweight. Food has always been my favorite form of punishment and while at the moment I am more or less in control, this control can slip very easily from me.
My mother kept shovelling food down my throat as her own guilt trip,
I started 20 different sports but never lasted, (and developed a fear of balls in the meantime that has brought my family and friends endless hours of fun)
My favorite pastime is and has always been reading.
My only constant form of exercise has been cycling and I missed it terribly while in London.
On of my father nicknames for me was "Bag". Of shit. He regularly comments on my weight and reminds me the importance of eating regularly and exercising, things that are difficult for me.
My mother was beautiful: thin, tall, elegant, an Audrey Hepburn.
While my friends 'mothers were teaching their daughters how to look like women, my mother was drinking and teaching me how to be embarrassed in my skin.
In all the pictures of me I look ill at ease, or sad and covering myself or making a mockery of it all.
Recently I started dancing I am sticking with it. Recently I started sleeping sky clad and I love the feeling of the bed linen over my naked skin.
Now I know that my body is suffering from a lifetime of hatred. I am sorry. I love you deeply and I think we both deserve a nice long hot shower and some nice cream, what do you think?
Great evening dancing last night. My dad and Giuliana come with. They sit most of the evening, but they seem to enjoy themselves. Then he comes out with a joke: 2Are you doing a quick course in body co-ordination?" My instinctual answer has been: "I have been waiting all evening for this joke."
We quickly managed to deflate the situation, but It has brought me back to my body. I am tall, I have hormonal problems and so I am very hairy for a woman, and I am overweight. Food has always been my favorite form of punishment and while at the moment I am more or less in control, this control can slip very easily from me.
My mother kept shovelling food down my throat as her own guilt trip,
I started 20 different sports but never lasted, (and developed a fear of balls in the meantime that has brought my family and friends endless hours of fun)
My favorite pastime is and has always been reading.
My only constant form of exercise has been cycling and I missed it terribly while in London.
On of my father nicknames for me was "Bag". Of shit. He regularly comments on my weight and reminds me the importance of eating regularly and exercising, things that are difficult for me.
My mother was beautiful: thin, tall, elegant, an Audrey Hepburn.
While my friends 'mothers were teaching their daughters how to look like women, my mother was drinking and teaching me how to be embarrassed in my skin.
In all the pictures of me I look ill at ease, or sad and covering myself or making a mockery of it all.
Recently I started dancing I am sticking with it. Recently I started sleeping sky clad and I love the feeling of the bed linen over my naked skin.
Now I know that my body is suffering from a lifetime of hatred. I am sorry. I love you deeply and I think we both deserve a nice long hot shower and some nice cream, what do you think?
