body.

i’ve been thinking about my body a lot lately..

not in the cute “new outfit, new confidence” way,

but in the heavy, familiar way that sneaks up on me when life is loud.

it’s strange how quickly old fears find their way back in.

one skipped gym week becomes two,

two becomes a month,

and suddenly i’m standing in front of a mirror wondering

if i’m backsliding into the version of me i was before everything fell apart.

the version of me right before the end of my marriage.

the version of me who thought shrinking would keep me safe.

the version of me who believed thinness was armor.

i know better now, or at least my mind does.

but my body remembers things i never agreed to store.

and lately, the guilt hits me every time i don’t go to the gym.

it whispers things like,

“you’re slipping,”

“you’re losing control,”

“you’re going to wake up one day and hate your reflection again.”

it’s wild, because i look at pictures of myself…

and i know i look good.

i know i’m strong, yet soft in the right places, still me.

people still compliment me.

men still want me.

but trauma doesn’t care about compliments.

it only cares about patterns.

and somewhere, my brain still believes that being wanted is tied to being small.

that desirability is something i have to earn.

that if i gain too much weight, i’ll lose everything.

even though i know, deep down, that the girl i am today

is not the girl who was betrayed.

she’s not fragile.

she’s not afraid.

she’s not waiting to be chosen.

she is her own home.

my body has carried me through motherhood, through so much heartbreak, through rebuilding, going back to college, juggling content creation, and being a single mom, all while healing…

through nights where i cried on the bathroom floor thinking i couldn't go on…

and mornings where i woke up and didn't want to, but kept going anyway.

maybe she deserves something other than fear.

maybe she deserves patience.

maybe she deserves gentleness.

maybe she deserves praise before punishment.

i think i’m learning that movement doesn’t have to be a consequence.

it can be a love letter.

it can be a way to say,

“i’m still here. i still care.”

i don’t want to chase thinness anymore.

i want to chase strength.

i want to chase energy.

i want to chase peace.

and most of all,

i want to feel at home in my body

without feeling like i have to earn the right to be here.

so maybe this isn’t a story about weight gain or gym guilt.

maybe it’s about unlearning the idea that my worth lives in the mirror.

maybe it’s about honoring the woman i’ve become

instead of fearing the girl i used to be.

my body is still mine.

still beautiful.

still strong.

still here.

and so am i.