Because of Trauma, I Often Hate My Body
I often hate my body. Hate it for its limitations, the torturing pain, debilitating fatigue and constant weakness. I’m 28, feeling more like 82. But my soul, my spirit, is young at heart, even if it’s been matured through tough times and difficult truths.
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This body of mine has survived years of abuse, fear and control. It’s been the means I had to survive, and it’s now paying the price. It’s not its fault, nor is it mine. It’s an unfair reality, but it’s up to me to make it my best reality in spite of the damage.
I grew up isolated and hurt. I was never nurtured; I was never seen. I was neglected and I had to fend so often for myself and others I loved. I was never protected, but I kept trying to protect others. I was brought up in a battlefield made by a religious cult, and as a child, was left as prey to vile excuses of human beings who claimed to be God’s People. I now bear the scars of that constant battle.
Because I left and deserted such a filthy army (the cult), I consider that battle a win. Even if it stole 21 years from me and many more trying to recuperate, I was made a warrior out of the ashes. I would never choose to be a warrior, never wanted to be one, but children don’t get the choice to what happens to them. Luckily, as an adult, I realized I could, for once, fight for me and choose to walk away.
My body limped away from that destruction with fibromyalgia and my brain with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). That’s the price of war sometimes, even the wars we never signed up to fight in.
I’m thankful for my body, even on the days I hate it. It took so much strength and pain to climb up on these rocks and look out over water, up at sky, feel the soft wind breathe through my fingers as my arms reached out wide for the moment. I didn’t think about it; just did it. It came so naturally to me.
To breathe life in.
Be in the moment.
Ponder how far I have come.
To feel free.
To be happy.
Thank you, body. Thank you, brain. Thank you for doing your best to protect me as a child when adults wouldn’t. Thank you for trying so darn hard on my behalf. We’re sick now, but you did your best and I’m thankful.
Photo by Guillaume De Germain on Unsplash