Two-thirds of a Monster is Still a Monster

This poem has been tough to write. It took me months. I have pages and pages of other notes, other verses, other lines. I think that what I started with really needs to be two or three separate pieces.

My relationship with my body and with food is super fucked-up. I am not alone in this — a lot of us deal with this kind of thing all the time.

I lost a whole bunch of weight over the past three years. It was really really REALLY hard, and it continues to be, and will probably be hard every day for the rest of my life. But even though I’m a healthy “normal” weight now, in my head I’m still gross and disgusting and unlovable. Eating in front of other people makes me anxious, for fear they will realize how gross and disgusting and unlovable I am.

See? Fucked up. My rational brain knows it’s not true, but my lizard brain is well-trained and I have to beat it into submission pretty frequently.

Anyway, here’s what I wrote. I hope you like it.

Two-thirds of a Monster is Still a Monster

When I take off my clothes and look in the mirror
I am two thirds the person I used to be
I have visible ribs, spine, hipbones
It’s what I always wanted and it doesn’t seem to matter
How hard I worked, how strong I am, how many miles I’ve run
In my head, in the mirror, I am fat and need to fix it
Because my brain has never thought any other way.

I hate my brain for telling me I must be smaller still, take up even less space in the world
For telling me you will be disgusted if you see me eat
For telling me that I am weak, that I have no self control
That I embarrass you, that I’m unlovable
And that all your worst thoughts about me must be true.

My brain is a liar and my shame isn’t fair to either of us
I’m exhausted from trying to just fucking love myself.

I cannot pretend anymore that I survive on air and sunlight like a houseplant.

So I won’t. I’m done. I’m quitting being ashamed.
I’m going to eat in front of you and this is what I want:

Red wine, red meat
Tomatoes, avocados
Garlic, and lots of it
Sharp cheese
An entire baguette and French butter
A glass of bourbon
And
A big piece of vanilla cake with vanilla buttercream and strawberries.

I’m going to eat, and I’m going to enjoy it, and I’m going to love myself.
Somehow.