I remember

I remember when I liked myself
No wait, I don't, that's a lie

Years of self hate chewing away at my soul like a dog with a bone.

Always wanting affirmation from others.
Needing to be told value dwells within my bones.
Skeptical of anyone who cared for me but still clinging to them like a life raft.
My worth always resting on the tip of their tongue.

I remember when I was first cut down.
Made superbly & ironically aware that I was less than for being more.
Maybe it wasn't the first time.
Just the one that embarrassed me the most.

We were just kids, 8 or 9, I suppose.
Neighbours playing together.
I still hear his words cut like a knife in to my fragile existence.
Picking teams, odd number of players.

He says with a laugh - Paula should count for two.
I prayed for the ground to swallow me up.
My mother to call for me to come home.
Anything to save me.
I felt less valuable than one.
I didn't count at all to him.

Another time, same friends.
Swimming.
Same boy.
My armpit fat hanging out.
He says with a sneer "Is that your boob?".
I wanted to go under the water & never come back up.
Instead I started wearing tshirts over my bathing suit.
Hoping that he'd leave me alone.


30 years those words spinning in my head.
30 years of self doubt.
30 years of unworthiness.
30 years of relying on the opinions of others.

I refuse to let it be 31.