Voices

Sometimes I still hear their voices.

I look down at my body ~ in awe of my 40 pounds of weight loss ~ and still see the little belly that remains.

I laugh at my first "thigh gap" in thirty years and remember how a man I once dated made fun of the sound of my jeans rubbing together when I walked.

I recently told my cousin (who knows very little about my domestic violence story) that my abuser would insert the word "fat" before the b word, the w word, and the c word.

I remember another ex who did not want me to take a break during our work together ~ oh, I had enough fat on reserves, he said.  I went without lunch that day.

I like my body now.  I may have even liked my curvy body even more six months ago.  But I have returned to a body that held my soul before 14 years of back-to-back unhealthy relationships finally took their toll on me.  I revel in the memories of how I once was before verbal, mental, emotional, and physical abuse became a daily part of my life.

So there it is.  And here I am.  Four sizes smaller.  

Stomping out the voices in my head.  One flashback at a time.

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