33!

Today is my birthday and I am happy because I have a lot to be thankful for such as the grass and sky and horizon and my family and all these new friends I have made...not too mention all my precious old friends. bc i may be sad a lot and i may focus on my losses too much at times but I am not ungrateful. Even this aging body, that made it another year, is an object of my appreciation today. Lately it hurts me physically quite a bit, but my bones and flesh and I are finally making some sort of peace. For years, ever since it tried to grow, i have poisoned, stabbed, starved, cut and loathed my body....like so many other women I know...it's no secret, either, that I did all this. Most of us do, in some ways. Maybe for a lot of us its a high school phase, but some of get sucked in, to the anxiety and mental anguish of merely BEING and this totally abstract non tangible torture becomes REAL in your physical body so you let it live there because that way, it has a place. Maybe if we can deconstruct the invisible monster, instead of the deconstructing the body, we can heal. not sure. I think that is what i am doing, anyway. Bc the bigger and older and more imperfect my body gets, the more i LIKE it. and the more i like me. 

Of coure I mourn my old self and I miss her. The people I used to know, the people who used to touch me, the places i went and the way I experienced all of this through a body i have since shed like old skin. sloughed off. Birthdays are for mourning as well as celebrating. We gain, we lose, we hit and miss and we love, we forgive, we hurt and we heal. That's all we can do. Happy birthday, me. Happy unbirthday, you.