My own belly, held in my hands, soft touches and apologies, trying to make up for decades of misplaced anger, as it grows shrinks stretches aches wakes listens revels lies content.
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It’s taken me years to come to terms with my experiences. Because for years I thought I deserved to be treated the way he treated me. That my body truly made me undesirable, unlovable, and that his expressed feelings toward me were natural, that they were not his fault.
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It’s not just that I belong to multiple oppressed groups; it’s that I feel as if I don’t fit into any one of them.
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