To the beast in my body,
It's one of those days I barely want to get up, let alone get dressed. Like when we first met, back when you stole my hope––back when I couldn't even bring myself to buy new clothes. Would you ever let me wear them?
I hate what you're doing to my body. One week I'm well, the next I'm back under the knife to remove 6 centimeters of you that––surprise!––turned out to be 12. I'm tired, but this is still my life.
So I still get up, still get dressed. My granddaughter still comes to play and we still share our special hugs––a little more gentle now, but just as tight. We still laugh loud––deep belly laughs that remind us just how good life can be. It's beautiful chaos. I know you feel it, and I hope it hurts.
Because you don't control my body…or my life. I have plans—and I plan on keeping them.
Never yours,
Judy
