I Deserve To Be Held
The first time I laid on my side and Shane reached around to hold me and touched my stomach, we both flinched. This was a rule that now had accidentally been broken. So now what?
Because I was mortified.
For years I had been hiding and curating my body to be strategically as attractive as it could be because the narrative in my mind told me my body was for others.
This moment I felt, ruined it all.
He reacted apologetically as he moved his hand away from my stomach.
Acting in pure emotion, frustration and impulse, I placed my hand on top of his and brought it back to my core.
Our hands stayed there as he held me.
I allowed him to wrap his arms around me as silent tears streamed onto my pillow.
Not tears of pain or mortification.
Tears of comfort.
Tears of safety.
Tears of relief.
Tears of realization.
He merely wanted to hold me.
I merely wanted to be held.
That day, I finally let myself be.
That day, I finally stopped trying to have my body feel like merely benefit or a burden for others, as if that was its purpose.
This was my body.
I deserve to be held.
