
fun house
crazy mirrors,
these are her eyes.
misaligned
warping illusion
these are her eyes.
explorer
she searches
reaches anew,
faraway near
carefully observes
the presence-day dawn.
CKS
Dance of the Forgotten Child. I don’t talk about this a lot. For years I haven’t talked about it. It has not been a part of my life. Many many years ago I had an eating disorder. At one point I was in bad shape. I wanted to disappear. I had the ridiculous idea that I needed to by skinny, to be invisible, to be dead, to not exist, and it was the only way I would be okay. It was control because Life was very out of control. My existence was within the reality of abuse. When you can’t get out, and you can’t scream out, and everything is secret, and nothing makes sense, it comes out sideways.
I saw myself as being very large. It didn’t matter what I actually was because when I looked in the mirror I saw a very large and misshapen person. The dysmorphia was very real, and I never really lost that. What I lost was taking action and practicing not eating. I let it just be.
Fast forward to today. I still don’t know what I look like. I still see myself as being much larger than I am and misshapen. To be honest I didn’t realize how present that still was.
Slowly adjusting my wardrobe to suit both what I like and what works in the chair, it is a fun way of affirming life and little luxuries of life. What is freaking me out is size. I am hyper aware that I purchase clothing at 1x , 2x, XL, XXL. In the chair, I do not like tight clothing. It must have stretch, and comfort. As i am listening to other people, I tried on Mediums and larges and was 100 percent freaked out that they fit comfortably.
My mind cannot compute this. I can’t figure out the funhouse mirrors. I don’t see it. like some sort of alternate universe. I even have tried different silhouettes which I would have never ever done.
I like a-line, baby doll kind of dresses because they are roomy and hide things, but have been very unhappy with this silouette for awhile but couldn’t figure out what I was unhappy with.
Tells me I am beginning to see me in some regard. The new silhouettes feel vulnerable, and also feel good. not trying to hide. Which is also very weird to think about. To see myself as myself. That it would even be possible? Do you see yourself? I think I operate many days still within the Dance of the Forgotten Child , the one still needing to disappear into the wall as a wallflower hoping not to be recognized, safe in invisibility; safe as a shadow.
And, also seeking personhood. Practicing personhood. Practicing being present in my own skin. affirming self. affirming the safety of today. Affirming I am proportioned just because I am. Because it is safe to be who I am.
How do you feel? Do feel safe to be who you are?
paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower