28 years ago November fell on a Saturday as well. I don't normally remember details like this, but that day stands out. I won't go into the details of why that date is burned into my brain; suffice it to say it was one of those pivotal in a not-good way moments. A moment that made me question my strength, my worth, my perception of the experience. It is a moment that I've gotten more clarity on over the last year.
As I remember this anniversary I wonder what it is I need. Maybe I don't "need" anything, or to do anything. Except heal. Not healing isn't an option.
But what does healing mean? What does healing look like? How do I celebrate my life, my body, my self? Self-help gurus and therapists are always telling us we have to love ourselves. I can't say that I hate myself, or hate my body anymore, but I definitely don't love either of those things either. I don't exactly like my body, but I think I can say that I like my self. That is an improvement. An improvement I feel like I can build on. Will I ever Love myself? Maybe, maybe not. But, it's the journey, right?
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