Her thoughts

3

Maybe it’s just me, but at some time during the afternoon, I get this overwhelming urge to pleasure myself. So I do, but afterward, my thoughts start to plague my mind. Thoughts like ‘You’re gross,’ or ‘Who would do this?’ or ‘You’re filthy, no wonder you’re alone,’ or things worse than that. So to try to evade any further thoughts I get ready to take a shower. Seeing as that is the only time I ever feel like I can be a person. I grab my clothes, towel, and speaker. I go into the bathroom and set everything up. I play music and get undressed. When I am fully undressed I take a look into the mirror and immediately notice my “faults” and I start to critique my body. Starting from my face I look at. I mean look at it, my expression looks as if I’m tired and miserable. As if all my energy and any will I had to live had left. I look into my dull eyes and wish I had a spark in them like everyone else I see. I look around my eyes and notice my eyes are slightly uneven, and immediately thoughts of people noticing start to flood my mind. I become conscious of it. My eyes travel to my nose. ‘Is it big?’ or ‘Is it small’ or ‘Is the shape weird?’ questions, upon questions replace previous thoughts. Now my eyes start to look at my mouth area. Under my nose is hair growing, if looked at closely then it looks as if a mustache is growing, even though I am a female. My double chin is something I feel ABSURDLY insecure about. My eyes look at my neck, ‘Is there too much skin?’ I question. I lift my arms, look at the extra skin hanging, and notice the stretch marks. As if trying to ignore the reality, my eyes continue to travel down my body. I look at the outline of my body. ‘It’s not curved,’ or ‘I have a boxed outline,’ or ‘The color of your skin is uneven in some spots,’ or ‘Look at those stretch marks, no one will ever like that.’ I know I look like that, so please stop critiquing my body. I go lower. My legs. They’re full of scars from my younger days. From a time when these thoughts were non-existent. ‘Why are there so many stretch marks?’ or ‘Too much skin,’ or ‘Why are your legs a darker shade than your upper body?’ I know, so please stop critiquing my body. I turn my body to look at the side view. My nose isn’t straight, in the middle it has a spot where the bone sticks out a bit more. My jawline isn’t as defined as everyone else’s. The hump behind my neck is too big. My posture is terrible. The bumps/pimples on my arms aren’t normal. My stomach sticks out more than I’d like. My stretch marks are more distinguishable, they’re a lighter shade. I know, so please stop critiquing my body. With much effort, I pull myself away from the mirror and get into the water. As I sit, everything I just thought starts to gather. I start to feel myself becoming frustrated. Frustrated with me. Frustrated that I had let the slightest bit of confidence slither its way through my emotions. Toying with them. Poisoning them. Poisoning me. Amidst my spiraling, the music reaches my ears. Feeling Good, by Michael Buble. One of my favorites. A wave of relief washes over me. I found an escape.

“Oh freedom is mine

and I know how I feel

It’s a new dawn

It’s a new day

It’s a new life

It’s a new dawn

It’s a new day

It’s a new life

It’s a new daw

It’s a new day

It’s a new life, for me

And I’m feeling good”

I love this part. Whenever this part comes on, I sing with my heart. As I sing my eyes brim with tears, and a chill rushes through my body. This Is the part that makes my mind finally quiet down. This is the part that makes my heart pound. This is the part that convinces me that I too could feel something other than angry, sad, or frustrated. This is the part where I let my emotions come out. Where my eyes finally let my tears fall. Where my bottled-up emotions finally get set free. Where my voice finally makes its way out of its cage. Where my body finally releases all the tension it had. Where I let myself feel. Where I let myself be me. 

I continue to focus on the music. If I do, I know I won’t spiral. If I do, I know I can reset. I can erase my previous emotions. I can rest my previous thoughts. I can put on my mask, my mask that has shed some of its weight. 

I continue to listen to the music. Content with the water running down my body. I’ve already done everything I needed to do. I enjoy my little bit of freedom. I close my eyes and relax. I let the music flood the little space I call a bathroom. Another of my top favorite song plays. You Are Enough, by Sleeping At Last. I smile. This song always, without a doubt plays when I need it to.

“When we grew up, our shadows grew up too

But they're just old ghosts that we grow attached to

The tragic flaw is that they hide the truth

That you're enough, you're enough, you're enough

I promise you're enough, you're enough, you're enough

I promise you're enough, you're enough, you're enough, I promise you

You're enough, you're enough, you're enough, you are enough

These little words, somehow they're changing us

You're enough, you're enough, you are enough

So we let our shadows fall away like dust”

I fall to my knees and cry. Even if it’s not my preferred person, someone is still telling me. Someone is still reassuring me. And, for now, that’s all I need to keep moving forward. That’s all I need to keep pushing me forward. That’s all I need to stay on this very earth. This is the song that constantly reminds me I am indeed enough. I stand and face the water, allowing it to wash away my tears. I allow it to wash away my previous self. Once I feel the water turn cold I turn it off and step out. I dry myself and get dressed. This time I willingly look in the mirror and see myself in a new light. All the “faults” previously stated are now replaced with words that lift my mood. Are they lies? Maybe, but sometimes a lie is needed. 

I remind myself I do not exist for anyone but myself. If I do get a partner in the future, it’s not up for them to tell me how I should or shouldn’t look, or how I should or shouldn’t act. That is up to me. Their thoughts and opinions matter. But if it’s only going to bring me down I’ll ignore it to the best of my abilities. Then again, if they truly liked me, would they say or think those things about me? No. They wouldn’t. If anything I can always chalk it up to a bad experience, and move on. If there is something as true as soulmates then that person wasn’t the one. At least not for me.

-My Thoughts-