Some body like you

'The Brobdingnagian has fish lips', read the ill written graffiti sporadically littered in the art block. I read the first one under the stairs at first break, I didn't know what it meant then; but I understood what it meant. The thin lipped culprits had defined beauty and I had fallen short of the mark.  

'I wouldn't date the Brobdingnagian because of the wide hips and big bum', he said as he kiki'd with his friends who laughed along. I had no desire to date anyway, especially not shaggy haired, dirty looking, dumb boys; but no one heard me when I said 'as if I would wanna date you' 

'You know you are ugly', she said as she reached over the table to grab some party food. My heart dropped in its deliciously dramatic way and in that moment as the music drowned out, I realised this was the first time a black woman, a woman who looked like me called me ugly. If this woman could not see my beauty then the whispers, the writings on the literal wall had to have truth to them. 

I needed more than 'get over it'. 

I cursed the bottom of my belly as I forced phallic objects to the back of my throat, hoping to throw up meals, calories, words and the fat I had consumed. Bent over the toilet with only tears, saliva and self-loathing coming from with me, the words and meals clung stubbornly to my belly.  

'Brobdingnagian your arms are so hairy, something something like a monkey'. Suddenly I was horrified by the way that the black hairs sprouted all over my body, I spent hours every 3rd night ensuring the only hairs I had left on me were on my head and my face. 

In college I finally had black friends outside of family. The high life was cut short when we were informed a group of black kids was an intimidating gang, and had to be dismantled because staff and students were frightened.  

'The Brobdingnagian is the ugliest here' he said loudly and proudly as the circle giggled with him. I managed a faint 'fuck you', the compliance of my white comrades stunning me. I drunk and drunk, no longer in the party mood I snuck out the party room into a room reserved for me. I got dressed, hoodie and all, I was going to leave the minute the sun came up. 'Fuck these fuckers' I thought. I guess I slept because the creak of my door woke me up.   

Something about this situation felt dark, the fear I felt froze me. The light entered the room hesitantly, almost delicately. This person did not say a word and I could taste my heart as it moved to my throat. A weight joined the bed, the smell of alcohol and lynx Africa hit my nose and I knew instantly who it was. I knew it wasn't a lucid dream because I could feel the wetness of my tears and the roughness of his stubble. The desperate need to escape meant I wore all the layers I had, I do not do that. Something made me dress up that night. His inability to reach me deterred him as he got off in frustration after what felt like a lifetime, he slammed the door in anger and I sprung to put anything against it to stop him coming back. No longer able to get into the bed, I curled myself into a ball and cried.  

I cried because I was scared. I cried because I was disgusted, I cried because I did not understand this. I cried because in that moment the truth of my loneliness became apparent, who would be my confidant? Would they agree with the earlier statement, was it somehow my fault? Was it an act of goodwill.  

I was lost, scared and alone. Oh body of mine how you betrayed me. Through the tears I vowed to kill any man who made me feel scared.  

The result of this was the first LOML. Lol. In his arms I felt as though everything of the world melted and I was in a state of treasured quiet. At least I wasn't trying or thinking of purging in those moments. I was instead inflicting pain in small subtle ways that felt good but did not raise suspicion.  

Fuck it I am gonna skip some because I am. Years of this continued, taking up different forms, manifesting in different ways.  

I am better now. Much much better.  

I am experiencing my body in new ways new lights and I find another reason each time to love it unconditionally.  This body a cornucopia of thick lips, thick thighs, hairy chins and scars wrapped in stretch marks, skin so soft the lightest touch causes ripples, is a temporary home for a timeless spirit. A temple I adore and adorn, in ways that feel right for me to. Every part of my journey has got me to this point.   

It's a journey. It get's better, and when it does my god it's the most freeing thing. My body has been constant, through the highs and lows. I am a strong ass woman it is because I had my body with me at every point.  

If my body can survive and thrive after years of a**e, anyone's can too.