DancingMermaid » messy hearts poem 4

messy hearts poem 4

i see it starting already.

she lifts up her pink hoodie
revealing her beautiful tanned belly…
a sweet little belly that i want to rub
like a buddha and offer wishes and prayers.
she thinks it is getting skinnier
since she’s been sick~

i tell her it was perfect then,
and it is perfect now.

i know she looks at her sister’s
pixie figure and thinks that hers is lacking.

she says she has her mothers stomach.

funny how our ache gets passed down
like that.

she says she likes my body
and i tell her it looked just like
hers at 12.

it did:

knobby scabby knees. check.
sunshine kissed skin. check.
long limbs. check.
curvy soft tummy. check. check.

i thought i looked fine back then,
until someone told me it was wrong.

“you are always going to
have to watch your weight….”

watch my weight?
what does that mean?
what will happen if i don’t?

i did not want to find out-

so i watched what it looked like
next to other girls in swim class.
i watched my breasts grow
and at an uncomfortable rate.
i watched things happen
that were out of my control
and had no clue as to how to stop it all.

in cheerleading the coach
decided one day that we needed to lose weight…
as a team.

girls bragged in the weigh-in line
how they survived on only one apple all day.

our 90 pound 5′2 ringleader
stood by the scale with a clipboard.

your destiny depended on a
a simple chart.

you needed to be in a 5 pound
range of your height and wrist size.

nothing else was factored in-
your family life,
your natural body type,
what you did to achieve your goal weight.

why was no one paying attention to this?

i was in the average weight class
of my height and hated that word-
average body, average student…
i thought it was the opposite of special.

we starting practicing
our mounts in water during summer,
and met at the houses who had pools.

a few giggling twiggy type girls
pointed out my breasts one afternoon-
i had tried so hard to hide them
in that black one piece.

comments were always said as
compliments,
but the recipients knew
they were nothing but.

the less developed girls
seemed to have this freedom
that i didn’t.

i wished to be flat chested,
stick-like, and invisible.

and that was the beginning.

anorexia? check.
bulimia? check.
low self esteem and shame? check. check.

i was an afterschool special-
a don’t try this at home poster girl.
it took years to get this mess
sorted out.

but i did.

i don’t consider myself healed,
just more self aware
and a lot more loving towards my own heart.

i still see this infection all around-
it doesn’t need a name anymore.

it is a game that can never be won.
i got comments when i was lush and curvy,
and i get comments now
occasionally that are just as hurtful.

i see the questions in their eyes-

is she keeping some secret?
is she eating?

the fact that i got really sick
this summer,
weaned myself off paxil,
took myself off birth control
and then got depressed
does not seem to be a good enough answer
to some of those hard core dieters.

on good days i
force a smile and say,
this is just me…
this is how i look…
just like i felt before anyone
told me i was wrong.

there is a sickness in our sisterhood,
and what makes it worse is when
we attack each other.

it is easy,
i know,
to look at some women and think
their life is a certain way because of how they look.

it is easy
to think you have permission
to say certain things…

the rules are all fucked up.

i don’t think we can point the finger
at one thing or person.

i wish i could convince
every hurt and aching beauty
of her goddess status.

all i can do is
to be a little softer and kinder
to myself
and to others.

we all have a story,
and we all started out loving ourselves in the beginning.

lets be gentle
while we find our way back.

28 Comments so far
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thank you. your beautiful words capture thoughts and feelings that have rumbled inside my head and heart for years. i will try to be more gentle with myself and others.

i emailed you, ’cause the comment just got to long

love love love those photo’s by the way! xox

* hugs her own rounded, soft tummy and full, voluptuous hips * AMEN sister. I couldn’t have said it better. You rock.

thank you, mccabe.

this was painful for me to read. And I am glad you wrote it. Painful because I remember when all of a sudden, I was ‘ugly’. And the uphill battle to feel okay in my body again (a looonnnggg battle). Glad because I think/hope/feel that when people read this, it will help with healing and changing perspective of women and their bodies.

Sometimes, it amazes me that I lived in such “ignorant bliss” in high school…although, I DO remember being on the receiving end of those comments right there with you. But, I’ve always thought you’re beautiful…always.

just stopped by to leave a hug and to tell you what i forgot to wrote the first time: i think you rock for putting this out here. your words reach so far, my friend. love you xxx

amen sister
xo

my friend told me this thing once that’s haunted me since…women do three things commonly: they underdress in cold weather, they hold off on peeing, and they talk behind each other’s backs. so sad.
so glad i don’t have women in my life like that.
we need to do something. because i too, am seeing it happen…i too was eating disorder-full (you should have heard my internal dialogue this week, when i was stressed out from essay writing…i was feeling guilt over my hunger, for crying out loud…)
this got to me, sweetie. thank you for voicing this.

the phrase “so glad i don’t have women in my life like that” came across as too judgemental, to me.
i truly think that all hurt comes out of confusion…and there are so many people who are so confused…
sending love.

word, sister.

you hit the nail right on the head…i have two toddlers that are girls. i hope to fight the media and what society sees as beautiful. i want them to appreciate and respect their bodies, their individuality and themselves as women. i want them to be strong. that is my goal. thank-you for your candid words, they speak volumes.

you are so wonderful, YOU. You are so strong, YOU. You are so beautiful, YOU. You possess a heart that is bigger than the ocean. Feeling sadness for your struggles, but bliss for who you are today. Loving YOU for YOU, me.

a little late
buttttttttttt
check out your post
where do you put your magic rock?
with dalilahkitty drinking from a red mug . . .

mccabe, your words meet me again this morning …
the child told she needs to lose weight & starts loathing herself.
the high school girl who starves herself, concerns herself primarily with eating less & less calories than she did the day before.
the compliments & questions of “how’d you do that, you look fantastic” received when i lost all kinds of weight with being very sick last year.
now: learning to love myself, what i have, where i’m at. with you on this.
peace,
-k

The stanzas about your gym class are wonderful… and horrifying. It’s good to see that poetry is alive and well with people like you.

Powerful, brave, compassionate and true. I’m so glad you are writing poetry. The world needs brave, compassionate poetry.
xx

*hugs*

I love this poem- (another one I love)- so raw, true and heartfelt…(((hugs)))
Oh, and I remember being singled out for praise by my running coach when I weighed 116- no small feat with a curvy body- all I ate was a butterscotch krimpet all day and ran 2x a day in high school. Ah, the agony… the heartache- when I am old, I’ll wish I had this body… More ((hugs))

Well, pull up a chair and pass the beer! Gosh, I was stick thin and under-developed. A dancer graced with a 12 year old boys body and no one said anything and I was fine. Then the summer of 8th grade right before High School I quit ballet. Quit dancing 4 times a week. And like clock work: I grew 4 inches and gained 20 lbs and the boob fairy delivered in the biggest way. The first day of 9th grade a football player pointed at me, grinning at his friend and said, “Look @ the tits on that one!”. I carried my notebook in front of my chest for the rest of the year. Adolescence was brutal. And now my 9 year old dreams of boobs and being older as if life gets more magical than it is now. I want to whisper the secrets in her ear as she sleeps to save her from any pain… And pass the beer!!! I’m at home here.

What beautiful (painfully beautiful) sentiments, and so sadly true. Are there really any women out there, ANY at all that don’t struggle with body image? There’s none that I’ve every met anyways… We can learn to cope, strive to be healthy, try to teach ourselves to love ourselves just the way we are, but sometimes those critical voices just keep coming back to haunt us.

Itâ€™s scary how we inherit the ache and turn against our own bodies. I could say so much about my own experience with this as well. Thank you for writing about this McCabe.

wow…such love and healing energy and sweetness and honesty. you are a reminder to all of us that being a girl is magical and powerful…the soul sisters of the world always find each other and always lift each other up, don’t we?

this made me cry, bawl like a baby really … we need to tell each other we are beautiful more, we are beautiful exactly as we are right now, today …

i love your open honest, raw, giving, beautiful poetry … and you are beautiful honey, oh so beautiful

Oh Sweet Mccabe…
you are enough.
More than enough.
For us…you can just be YOU.
I wish i could write,
live,
express,
share,
do,
be as you are…you are my hero! xx

“a sickness in our sisterhood”
so true and very poignant.
could be the title of a book.
I know that sickness all too well…
and it saddens me to know that so many other beautiful souls know it too.
thanks for this honest, sensitive poem.

i think mermaids rock.and my friend and i are getting a tail every christmas.i wish my friend and i can be mermaids with our family.i love only good mermaids.

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messy hearts poem 4

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