Lifestyle

Everything You Want To Say To The Person Who You Used To Be

by Jessica Winterstern
Sarah Orbanic

To the woman inhabiting my mind,

I am choosing to speak up now, as I want you to know I forgive you.

I forgive you for all the years you spent hating me. I forgive you for the extreme action you took, and the intense effort you made to try and change the way I looked. I forgive you for dragging me when I couldn't keep up, and pushing me beyond my limit when I needed to rest.

I forgive you for the time you spent blaming me for your failures – the men who didn't want you, and the opportunities you didn't get. I forgive you for all the energy you invested in shaming me for not moving fast enough along the path of forced transformation, for not accepting me as I was.

I forgive you for the binging, and the purging, and the bingeing and the purging. I forgive you for the long stints of starvation, the overexertion, the obsessive fixation and the relentless violation you inflicted on me.

I forgive you for the thoughts of disgust, the recurring disrespect, the perpetual judgments, the punishment enforced and the chronic neglect. I forgive you for comparing me to every f*cking person and disdaining me because I didn't measure up.

I forgive you for silencing my voice when I tried to tell you no, when I screamed stop, when I cried out in pain, needing you to support me rather than ignore me. I forgive you for putting me in situations for which I was not ready, for disregarding my concerns and hesitation and for choosing him over me time and time again. I forgive you for using me as an object, for subjecting me to experiences I would have never chosen, for undermining my apprehension when I needed you to listen.

To the woman inhabiting me, I have worked so hard to keep you going strong, but I cannot keep going like this.

I forgive you, but I also have desires that must be met moving forward. So, listen up:

I desire appreciation for all that I have given you. I want you to stop taking me for granted and to start appreciating your ability to breathe and move, to taste, hear, see, smell and experience this life.

I desire more sleep, as I am drowning in cortisol, breaking down every waking hour when my eyes should be shut closed. I want to feel supported by you in this and know you are doing your best to let go of the stress.

I desire water, and not just a glass, but a gallon a day. I want you to pay more attention to the fact that my head throbs in pain, and my insides feel like they are drying up because you forget. I desire to be nourished when I am hungry, and to be given space when I am not. I want you to value my rhythm, rather than go against it and discard it altogether.

I desire to feel safe, heard and respected. I want to know you honor my voice before anyone else's. I desire to feel free in my expression, and not condemned by your insecurities. I want to be liberated from the cage in which you put me a long time ago.

I desire to be celebrated and loved every f*cking day of my existence, regardless of my state, my shape or my size. I want to know that this celebration is eternal and not conditional.

Is this too much to ask of you? Let me know. I'm tired of fighting with you.

Love,

Your Body