For so long I was labeled many things: sinner, follower, whore, stupid, ugly, arrogant, I lost my sense of self. I lost my shape. I let those words define me. I didn’t know who I was, and as soon as I did, life changed again. This is a short piece I have written tonight while thinking about shape:
When you hear the word “shape”, don’t think circles or squares. Think of yourself and how many friends have said “I’m so out of shape.”
What does this mean? We all feel it. It’s not just what you see. Distraught over losing emotional shape. Giving ourselves away through the years.
100%= jobs, kids, husband, pets, family, friends, the list goes on. Everyone gets all of me until I don’t recognize myself.
Then I think “who defines my shape?” It’s egotistical of me to think I am the one to define my shape, my soul?
I feel I have given it all away. This act hasn’t taken my shape, it’s changed my shape. I am different than I was 10 years ago, doesn’t mean I am “out of shape”, it means I changed. Fixing is the instinct when faced with the unfamiliar.
Fixing would not be honoring those who have helped define my shape.
Opposition: shape strengthened
Hard work, sweat, blood, and tears: shape earned
Sweet whispers from Grammy “you can do it”: shape nurtured
Loss: shape faded
Mom’s homemade cooking: shape nourished
Loving embrace: shape warmed
All of this, and self-realization: shape defined.
I am grateful.