I laid charging in bed. Body still, eyes closed. Saving my energy for the flight. The home nurse was hanging IV lines when she heard my prof ask her question. “What does healthcare mean to you?” My eyes peeked open and met hers. Her eyebrows rose in irony. (Was it irony? Alanis has forever ruined my confidence.) A burst of air escaped my lips. If I had more energy, it would have been a chortle. “Really?” She chuckled. “You are being asked that while a home care nurse is ha

I didn’t want them to listen to the gremlin on my shoulder. I wanted better for them. I wanted them to run and jump and play and live LIFE without that terrible cretin weighing them down.

You might need to be the strong one for a season. The one who doesn’t get offended by unanswered texts and canceled plans. The one who keeps making effort (effort that feels one-sided). The one that is the listening ear to frustrations.

My plane is going up – gravity is forcing down – and I don’t know how long I will feel like this. And I don’t know my destination. And I don’t know how shitty it will be when I get there. And I don’t know when I get to come back home. (But I hope I can take a bus.)

I am grabbing the “fake it till you make it” bull by the horns and attempting to model what self-love and body positivity looks like as I stand on the other side of the line called Conventional Size.