nice to meet you, rebel body

There are parts of my body that I never encounter. The backs of my knees, for example. We have a civil, but distant relationship.

Yesterday, for the first time in maybe a month, I went to yoga again. I had just read this piece, by Autumn Whitefield-Madrano of The Beheld, for Body Image Warrior Week, and I thought that I would definitely draw myself as a connected entity, with a neck that meets with shoulders (you’ll get that if you read the piece).

But at yoga, twisted into a strange position in my unfortunate spot by the radiator, it occurred to me that I actually don’t know my body all that well.

My body feels unpredictable and slightly dangerous to me. It does things I don’t understand. For example, and this is gonna be about menstrual blood, so all boys stop reading here: at the end of my period, it always stops for a day and then comes rushing back for a day, like it missed me and changed its mind.

My body has been known to play mean tricks on me, which might be why I am wary. One day, suddenly, my hair started falling out. Years ago, in college. Before that, I had such thick hair, it would occasionally flex and snap one of those flimsy ponytail holders, showing off. After that, my hair was wispy and apologetic. It never fully grew back, and when I got to New York City, I went to the doctor, and sat on the table, humiliated and determined, and asked him what my options were.

He looked confused. “Options? There aren’t any, really.” But he gave me a prescription for a Rogain knockoff and he ran blood tests. In the convenience store on the other side of Broadway from me, I had to ask the woman behind the counter for the hair loss treatment. She pulled it off the shelf and gave me a long look. “This is for men,” she said firmly.

“I know!” I said. I paid for it, wishing I could just lie and say it was for my boyfriend or my dad or something. But I am never able to lie and will probably die because of it one day, when the pirate lord who has taken me prisoner stands me up on the plank and asks me for the last time if I was trying to start a mutiny and steer the ship over to that island, with the pretty beach and the palm trees. I was!!! I love pretty beaches! I can’t help it! I WILL DIE FOR YOU, PALM TREES!


(I don’t know where that came from. Sorry.)

The doctor called me. I was severely anemic.


I hid the hair drug, paranoid that my boyfriend would see it when he came over. Or one of my friends. Or my mom, who sometimes randomly started cleaning my stuff when she visited. She might open the medicine cabinet. I was so ashamed of my manly hair loss treatment that I stopped after a week or so.

But my body didn’t stop. It was always transforming in unexpected ways. My belly changed shape. Where I used to be flat, I grew softer. My hips were suddenly fleshy, rather than lean and mean and ferocious. My body began to look gentle, welcoming, kinder. I didn’t recognize it. I’m not sure how much of my identity I’d kept in the dip of my concave abdomen, but I think it might have been too much.

The other day, I was meeting someone for dinner, and I had this series of thoughts: “I should wear my cute jeans. No. I can’t. They’re too tight. My belly puffs out, over the top. And they cut into me when I sit down. Especially if I eat. So no jeans. How about some soft, comfortable pants?” and then, “Oh my god. I’m like one of those women who wears a velour tracksuit all the time. I CAN’T EVEN WEAR MY OWN CLOTHES. I am disgusting. I’ve let myself go.”

(and probably not one from Juicy Couture. source

See that, right there? What is that? The whole “I’ve let myself go” thing. That is crap.

I’ve let myself be.

That’s more like it.

I didn’t stand in my belly’s way. I let it go be itself.

And now there are folds in shocking places and I am pliant in ways I wasn’t before, and in yoga, sweating and miserable and definitely bad at everything and sure I am designed to be watching TV instead, I come into abrupt contact with parts of my body I don’t know at all. Even my ankles, which I can usually ignore. I am so surprisingly physical. I wonder what I look like in silhouette. I wonder what I really look like to other people. I realize I don’t know what I look like. I don’t even really know what I feel like. My arms seem better than I expected. I am used to hating them reflexively, for their fat. But when they are holding me up, I can’t help but be a little impressed. From this angle, they look strong and well-formed.

I am not used to interacting intimately with my own body. Which seems strange. Shouldn’t I be?

It’s easier to critique it from a distance, like someone judging  a beauty pageant, than it is to get to know it for what it really is.

Last night, in the improbably titled burlesque bikini bootcamp that I signed up for on LivingSocial about a minute before I forbade myself from buying things on that site, I am one of the only young women in the studio whose belly sticks out. Welcome to Manhattan, baby.

I am also one of the only women who is not wearing exercise clothes. I am wearing my rabbit dress. And I brought my highest heels, which I put on for the sexy dance we learn. I am very good at crawling like a cat, I discover. It’s my butt. It’s just really round and prominent.

(in case you forgot.)

“I think I nailed that whole cat crawl thing,” I tell the teacher after, as my friend is telling her that I am this big body image blogger and I am being awkward and wondering what a big body image blogger would say next.

“You looked great from behind,” she says.

She is blond and fabulous and British and sensual. In class, she tells us that we are only allowed to think good things about our reflections. That’s an order. We are gorgeous. Each one of us in a totally different, stunning way. We are masterpieces. Look what our sexy bodies can do!

Inexplicably, she tells us to chant, “I put the POP in popsicle!”

I want to say it with a British accent.

I am one of the only women in the studio with short hair, so I can’t flip it like the others. I may be the only girl here who has used a Rogain knockoff. But my hair looks adorable. My curvy body looks good and for a few moments I feel other eyes on me, and I am sure that they are agreeing. I am fabulous. With this whole body that is completely mine.

*  *  *

How are you feeling about your body these days? Do you know it well? Does it surprise you? How about the backs of your knees? What are they like? :-)

Unroast: Today I love the way I look in giant heels.

P.S. Check out my piece on the Frisky about the ceremony my friend Rachel and I did together. It’s kinda more about friendship than ceremonies, but the ceremony was also badass.



Kate on March 1st 2012 in beauty, body, exercise, uplifting, weight

36 Responses to “nice to meet you, rebel body”

  1. Kimmy Sue Ruby Lou responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 1:36 pm #

    that is one fabulous donk! i am enjoying my natural body these days, currently protesting the razor…haven’t shaved ANYTHING in 6 months, ewww…i know…however, i decided i wasn’t going to shave until someone made me :) meanwhile, my daughters love to walk up and say “mom! show kyle your armpits!” i feel sexy in a cave woman kind of way…as for the backs of my knees, hmm…hadn’t really thought about them…they’re hard to shave, but that’s not a problem right now :)

  2. lik_11 responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 1:49 pm #

    About six months ago, I started exercising. For the first time in my life- I’m making efforts to change my (very) womanly body. Because of it- I feel strong. My arms and legs are starting to have muscle and definition. I like to look at them. My belly- well- it’s still very round and I don’t like to look at it. But, I feel like I’m starting to be friends with my body. It’s a nice feeling.

  3. katilda responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 1:50 pm #

    aside from everything else i enjoyed about this post, i would like to tell you that my uterus is in solidarity with yours when it comes to the whole “skip a day and come back” habit. i have always wondered if this is normal. if it’s not, now we are abnormal together.

  4. Kerry responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 2:02 pm #

    Kate and Katilda –

    I think you are both normal, because my body does this, too. Only it does it in the middle of the cycle. 2 periods for the price of one, I say!

    (I don’t say that. I *actually* say, DAMMIT!)

    Also, 3 months after going off the pill my lovely, long red hair started falling out in handfuls. It has tapered off, but my temples will never be the same. My hair was once my favorite thing about my looks, and now I have to re-evaluate things.

    Which is probably good, in the long run.

  5. Melanie responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 2:03 pm #

    Love love love that picture. That dress really looks amazing.

    This is such a great post. I really like “I’ve let myself be.” Such a truer sentence than people who say they’ve let themself go. I’m going to start using this term.

    Today I hate my body. I’m just having one of those days where I want to take a knife and cut off the wobbly bits. But these days are coming few and far between, whereas they used to be constant. I think I need an unroast today.

    Today I like the way that seeing two strangers in the bathroom wearing the same color caused a sort of weird sisterhood as we laughed that it must be purple day.

  6. Maria responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 2:04 pm #

    Wonderfully written, as always. Is it strange to say that your posts somehow make me feel… comforted? Like everything’s okay and I don’t have to fret so much about, well, everything (particularly body related things nowadays)? It’s true, though, so a thank you seems to be in order: thank you! :)

  7. Kate responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 2:36 pm #

    @Kimmy Sue
    YAY not shaving!! I like winter for that reason. And then I got a pedicure the other day, with a friend (I never get them!), and I felt like I had to apologize to the woman for my hairy legs, which were suddenly in her face :-)

  8. Kate responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 2:38 pm #

    @Katilda and Kerry
    OK, this is awesome. I’m glad I mentioned my period, because it bugs me that it does that– it seems seriously weird. Like, what is the blood doing in there? If there’s more, why doesn’t it come out with the rest? What is it waiting for? Sorry. Now I’m talking about it more.

    I know all about reevaluating with hair… (which I guess was sort of the point of the post– or at least one of them). You’ll do fine. There are other things to love, and maybe you’ll end up loving your hair in a way you didn’t expect!

  9. Kate responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 2:38 pm #

    I’m so glad! And thank YOU for the sweet comment!

  10. Chelsea S. responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 3:09 pm #

    I’m a new-ish reader, and I just adore your way with words! This post is no exception.

    I’ve been walking a lot over the last four months and gotten back into the flow of going to my favorite yoga classes at the gym. And it makes me feel much more in touch with my body. With my legs that carry me around town and hold me in warrior poses until they shake. With my arms that actually have little muscles peaking out when I flex and shoulders that appear strong in the mirror in the gym. With my belly that will always be a bit round, but is soft and feminine and decorated with a belly ring for over 10 years now in my first blush with accepting parts of me I had once detested.

  11. Jennifer responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 4:13 pm #

    A couple new things that rearranged by body politics:

    First, I have developed a knee glitch. It could be from recent Spinning (too much resistance) or about twenty years of continual jogging/walking/weight training. Maybe I over-yoga-ed.

    Regardless, all that moving I have done/will do is haunted by whether “this movement” will aggravate whatever is happening in my knee (sharp pain, possibly IT band syndrome or strained meniscus — not sure).

    My concern with being thinner/more fit has been trumped by WILL I BE ABLE TO CONTINUE USING THIS KNEE THE WAY I WANT/NEED UNTIL I DIE? Sure puts body fat in its place (lower on the concern rung).

    Second: a neighbor is rumored to have cancer. She is only ten years (?) older than I. So eating to be “thin” is trumped by eating to be “not cancerous-if-it-can-be-helped-by-eating well.”

    So a roll around my middle and thighs that rub together? Not so big compared to joints being painful and one’s mortality.

  12. D responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 4:14 pm #

    These days, I’ve been consistantly finding myself both surprised by my body, and feeling like I’m more in tune and knowledgable about it than I ever have been in my whole life. I’ve been practicing roller derby for almost two years, but recently I’ve really stepped up my game. When I see myself in the mirror, I’m like “DAMN girl, check those muscles.” Having a visibly stronger body feels new to me. When I’m skating however, I know exactly how my muscles are going to react, exactly when I’ll start cramping, exactly what I’ll need after practice. Even exactly what the backs of my knees are doing when I’m in speed skating position :) I really dig this feeling.

  13. Sooz responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 4:18 pm #

    Oh my goodness. There are so many things I love about this post that I almost don’t know where to begin. Okay. First, I loved the opening. What a great opening! Then…the whole thing about your period? That is me! Mine starts wicked heavy, then takes a few days off then comes back with a vengeance then disappears then comes back for the grand finale! Weird! And finally, the whole “I’ve let myself BE”….AWESOME! Wow. Blown away. I have a hate/hate relationship with my body. I have never really thought of my body as anything but yucky. Ugly. FAt. But in recent years I’ve been saying that I don’t want to obsess about what I look like. It’s so much easier to roll out of bed and throw on a t-shirt and jeans and just go. I guess I am trying to say I try to emulate my seven year old son and not care about my looks and just try to BE in my body and my life.

  14. Mandy responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 5:21 pm #


    Yeah, at some point the emphasis shifts from form to function. And how to not hurt.

    And, Kate–I LOVE that phrase, “let myself be,” as opposed to “let myself go.” It somehow implies that I stopped poking myself with the perfection stick, and trusted myself to be myself.

  15. Autumn Whitefield-Madrano responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 5:23 pm #

    Thank you for linking to The Beheld, Kate!

    I love the idea of “I’ve let myself be.” I find myself thinking “I’ve let myself go” too (go…where? to age 35?) and it’s ridiculous. I’m going to start trying to replace it with your words here. Thank you.

  16. tirzahrene responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 6:19 pm #

    I’m learning to let myself be.

    I weigh a solid 30 lbs (and I do mean SOLID, as in more than 30) over what my ex thought I should weigh forever and ever. I gained 15 of those pounds after leaving him and telling myself to eat what was good for my body and let my weight do what it wanted instead of never quite eating enough and always worrying.

    I spend an inordinate amount of time in front of the mirror now, just trying to understand what I look like. Definitely rounder, and I think that’s good. I looked at old pics of myself from what my ex would consider my “glory days” and I was SO thin. I’m a much friendlier shape now. I feel more at home in my skin simply because I’m treating myself well and being friendly to myself. But when I go to the doctor and she remarks, like, three times that I’m thin? I wonder if she’s crazy and then I force myself to take her at her word. Because I know I can’t tell accurately yet.

  17. alanna responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 7:25 pm #

    My period does that too. Always has, since I can remember: two days one, one day completely gone, then back again. I always figured as long as it consistently happens, it’s normal.

    I spend a lot of time hating my body. Less than I used to, but still too much. I am strong and healthy and fit, but not lean. My weight is always 5-15lbs more than I want it to be. I recently looked back through tons of old pictures over the last ten years trying to find a specific one. I was surprised to realize that I looked fine, even good in most of the pictures when I can vividly remember being disgusted with myself. I hate that so many women spend so much of our lives discontent with our own beings.

  18. Mara responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 7:54 pm #

    I like my ankles. A lot. I am totally grossed out by feet (even my own), but ankles are sexy!

  19. Birdy responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 9:19 pm #

    @ Kerry, (if you’re still paying attention) – your hair might come back. Mine did that 3 months after I was in a wreck (it caused a lot of stress on my whole system and I was on blood thinners too) and it thinned and thinned for a couple more months. I thought it was going to be that way forever but it came back.

    The upside is that thin hair is much more comfortable than thick hair! lol

  20. Emily responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 10:23 pm #

    my body also does the “JUST KIDDING!!” period pause, which is frustrating but also kind of my style– an unfunny joke. my uterus knows me too well.

  21. Tina responded on 01 Mar 2012 at 11:36 pm #

    My boobs… *sigh* I’ve noticed over the last two or three years how they’ve lost their perk. Not that anyone calls a chest as large as mine “perky” but my nipples never used to point to the floor. At thirty? With no kids?

    On the other hand, my period has magically become a tamed beast after years of crazy months-of-nothing, weeks-of-scary-bleeding. I don’t understand it, except a modest weight loss and a huge change in life stress.

  22. Twyla responded on 02 Mar 2012 at 2:57 am #

    Kate, the picture is great: you have a fantastic butt.

    I really like that you said ‘I let myself be…’ which describes what I’ve have gone through in the past year. The process of letting myself be. Feels fantastic.

    As always, thanks for your funny, insightful words. :)

  23. Aezy responded on 02 Mar 2012 at 6:08 am #

    This is such an amazing article!
    I was an “early bloomer”, got my period at 11 (it also will occasionally disappear for a day and turn up again!) and also developed womanly curves pretty much overnight. So teenage years were pretty horrible for me since I already felt fat and lumpy compared to all my friends. My huge boobs meant I hated exercise. I hated my body so much!

    But somewhere along the line I stopped hating it and I didn’t realise until the other day. It took me by surprise! I’m not sure whether its because I’ve taken up pole dancing so I have a new amazement at what I can get my body to do or because over the years I’ve come to accept and love my curves and thighs that sometimes touch and sometimes don’t and ginormous boobs that never change size. There are still some things I would change but I’ve finally grown into the body I was gifted at 11. Feels pretty awesome :)

  24. margosita responded on 02 Mar 2012 at 10:41 am #

    Kate, Kerry, Katilda, Sooz, Alanna and Emily,

    ME TOO. And hearing everyone pipe up to share the same experience is kind of awesome.

    About once or twice a year my period doesn’t do that, leaving me paranoid for days afterward (when will round 2 start!?). My uterus thinks she’s so funny…

  25. LeeH responded on 02 Mar 2012 at 11:10 am #

    Not shaving is one reason I like being married. He loves me, he doesn’t even see it anyway because I never wear sleeveless tops or shorts (long story) If I shave, it’s for me.
    I started shaving my legs in the 9th grade and I still remember the first time, started at the ankles, got up to the knees and thought.. do I shave back there? I don’t see why, and I didn’t and never, ever have shaved the back of my knees OR the backs of my thighs. Just the kneecaps and 6-7 inches up the front of the thighs. And they’re not hairy. You’d never know to look at my legs that some places have never been shaved.

  26. Emmi responded on 02 Mar 2012 at 12:16 pm #

    Love this post!

    Big note to anyone with significant amounts of hair inexplicably falling out – get yourself to a doctor and have them run a full panel of bloodwork on you. Chances are it’s due to a nutritional deficiency. I always pooh-poohed multivitamins until my doctor showed me what taking them did for me, and I realized I felt so much better when I was taking them consistently.

  27. Diana responded on 02 Mar 2012 at 12:57 pm #

    I haven’t shaved in 6 months. I told my husband as I was typing this and he said, “Really? But your legs are so soft . . . ” Hurrah for long hair everywhere!

    My period does the quirky 3 days on, 1 day off, 2 more days . . . just for kicks, too.

    And last, the “let yourself go” is a hot topic at work. A beautiful co-worker bought a new subaru forester and others said, “So, I see you have let yourself go!” We still wonder when we slip into the leather seats and ride to lunch with her if all the other Subaru drivers feel the same scrutiny.

    And another woman isn’t going to actively try to lose her baby fat for a year because she decided to “let herself go” to see what her body had in mind for her while she breastfeeds her newborn.

  28. poet responded on 02 Mar 2012 at 1:05 pm #

    Yaaaaay, your writing is so awesome! The concept of “letting oneself be” needed to be added to my mental inventory of good ideas, it perfectly captures what I’ve been trying to do for the past two years but I couldn’t have come up with it!

    I also know a woman who has this “period with a gap day” thing (I don’t, I imagine it must be confusing! I also think we should free periods from being such a taboo topic, then we can all feel more “normal” ;) ). I also had hair loss for a while due to what I suspect was anemia, but everything grew back after I changed some dietary and living conditions parameters, so do not despair! My mom also randomly starts cleaning when she visits me, I think all moms do!

    Anyway, keep up the great work, I always enjoy reading your stuff.

  29. Sarah Rooftops responded on 02 Mar 2012 at 2:15 pm #

    Oh, me too with the period thing! At least, mine used to do that, then they stopped altogether for three years and then last month – just as my doctor was deciding I’d probably gone through a very early menopause – I suddenly had two. WTF, body?! Seriously?!

    On another note, Burlesque Bikini Bootcamp? I want to go to that so badly.

  30. Jennifer responded on 03 Mar 2012 at 11:33 am #

    Sometimes I am really shocked when I read one of your posts, and find another weird thing that we have in common (my period also always stops for a day, then comes back for the last day or two). But that’s beside the point.

    I don’t allow us to own a scale, but I am pretty sure I’m heavier than I have been in a long time. Not my heaviest, probably, but definitely heavier. But I have always had one of those “lackluster” body types, or at least I have felt that way. I’ve never been curvy, never had much in the way of breasts or hips. But I also have never had that willowy androgynous thing going on either… just somewhere in between. The only thing I’ve always been proud of has been my butt. I think it is nice, it is round and has some decent size to it, but it isn’t too big. For a long time, it was the only thing I felt really feminine about.

    So, I’d been feeling pretty bummed about my weight gain. I always gain in my belly, my stomach gets big and I end up looking pregnant. Then one day I was standing naked in front of the mirror, and I noticed that suddenly I have that great curve that forms where a woman’s waist flares out into her hips. It isn’t pronounced, but it exists! I was shocked. Then all of a sudden, my bras fit better! Out of nowhere, I am a solid B-cup! (I have always been too big for an A, but slightly too small for a B).

    So now, other than the belly… I am somehow pretty okay with the weight gain. I wish my food baby would shrink a little, but suddenly I feel more feminine. I worry that if I start trying to lose the gut, my boobs will go first (isn’t that always the way it works?). But right now, for this moment… I am okay with it. :)

  31. Bonnie responded on 04 Mar 2012 at 1:23 am #

    Hi there! I am a brand new reader and loving you already. I came across your blog from your article about loving small boobs, and I am so happy to have weirdly found a stranger on the internet I connect with. I am 20 and in college, and I happily surprised to find I am suddenly finding myself ok with how my body looks. I have a small chest and a big booty, and I’m finally embracing that.
    I had an eating disorder in middle school and it still comes back to haunt me. Not so much the habits, more the thoughts which were almost the worst part. I’ve finally come to terms with what led to my disorder. First, it was a manifestation of my control issues at an uncontrollable time. And more significantly was the fact that I had been a stick skinny kid, and when I started developing curves in my bone structure and flesh like I was SUPPOSED to at age 12, I instead believed I was gaining weight. I was becoming Fat. The fact that so many girls going through puberty think this is upsetting enough, but I see it happens at other stages in your life as well. Your body is changing in ways it should be, due to childbearing or simply maturing to a certain body type, but instead we think of this a something to be shamed and run away from. Well, I’ll cross those bridges when I come to them. In the meanwhile, I’ve resolved to enjoy being 20 with a great butt, convenient sized boobs, and my dancer physique that I’m lucky comes with my activity.
    Thank you for articulating so many women’s thoughts so well! I look forward to reading more. :)

  32. contrary kiwi responded on 07 Mar 2012 at 7:21 pm #

    Reading this post has made me realise that being in love with dancing has given me the gift you’re just realising – of appreciating your body for what it can do, not what it looks like. One of my greatest pleasures is dancing like a crazy person (sometimes I look like I’m having a seizure) and reveling in the way my body feels. I don’t care how anyone thinks I look! And because of that, I often get people telling me they love my dancing xD

    I have noticed that my friends and I are all getting fatter. My svelte friends now have curves they never had before and my curvy friends are getting plumper. Some of them are concerned about it, but I am quite delighted that there seems to be another stage of our body’s development happening. We’re in our early twenties, having started puberty a long time ago (11 for me) and now my boobs are getting bigger, my hips and bum more prominent than before and my arms and legs are looking more…fleshful. Part of my weight gain is a lack of exercise, which I hope to remedy shortly, but part of it is (I think) hitting another stage in my body’s life. It’s awesome!

  33. Meghan Sara responded on 31 Mar 2012 at 11:42 am #

    MY period does that TOO!!! It’s like playing period roulette, I’m constantly carrying an abundance and wide range of Tampons, I feel like a weirdo in a commercial. Anytime someone laments in my presence, “Oh no, it’s my period!” I pull from my purse a silver tray covered in a dazzling array of feminine hygiene products. It’s kind of my thing.

    Thank you for shifting my perspective on my post-college weight gain. I’m proud to “let myself be”. Thank you for sharing your stories. You are the very best kind of role model!

  34. Eat the Damn Cake » what’s the matter now, stupid? responded on 16 Apr 2012 at 6:08 pm #

    [...] I am so frustrated with my untrustworthy, turncoat body. This body that has absolutely nothing serious wrong with it, but that will suddenly crash and crumple at the slightest provocation. This body that can not seem to manage to do the ordinary things that other bodies do, like spend time in a car without getting nauseous, or wake up at an earlier time than usual without being nauseous, or go on a plane ride, or stay up later than usual, or bump into something without getting a painful bruise, or sit in grass without getting a rash, or get a pedicure without getting an infection, or put on eyeliner without getting red, irritated eyes, or turn suddenly without pulling some microscopic, pretentious muscle, or wear a necklace without the weight of it becoming too pressing, or have even a single period without debilitating cramps, or, or– it’s all stupid. Stupid whiny little mundane meaningless complaints that add and add until they become the reason why I can’t be counted on to come through. Why I can’t count on myself to be there. To enjoy it. To be normal. [...]

  35. Eat the Damn Cake » I took my body for a walk responded on 02 May 2012 at 9:04 pm #

    [...] Do you ever feel separate from your body? How do you come together again? Some people said physical movement/exercise, when we had a similar conversation here. [...]

  36. Eat the Damn Cake » “you look just like your mom!” responded on 07 May 2012 at 11:41 am #

    [...] there’s a part of me that senses that I’m letting myself go. You know how they say that. I’m letting myself go as she hones herself. I feel suddenly large next to her, for the first [...]