There must have been an age at which I went from a child’s effortless acceptance of her body into an adolescent girl’s insecurity and awkwardness. There must have been an age at which I went from loving and accepting my female friends without a thought to comparing myself unfavorably to them, and in so doing, judging both myself and them. Was it 9? 13? I don’t remember.

This body has dreamt many dreams… From the beginning it has been tickled, torn, pummeled, pleasured. As a young person it was used as a means in which to repent for my mothers sins, for every strait jacket that my ancestors were bound in, I too bound myself.. An agony that I carried for far to many years. Withholding food, love, pleasure. Convinced that this sacrifice would make my heartache go away.