Delicate

My first tattoo was simple: “DELICATE” in blocky letters adorning my left arm. Branding myself with a word that is scarcely used for me. A word whose antonyms have been carved into my identity without my consent. 

Strong, Large, Firm. 

That's who i'm supposed to be. 

5’10, 215lbs. Wide shoulders, thick thighs; 

A Daunting and Intimidating Frame. 

Strong, Large, Firm. 

Never to be Delicate, never to be Vulnerable, always to be used. 

Never to be Admired, never to be Loved, always to be exploited. 

This is not a plea for pity. 

This is a critique. 

Because my body has been on a serving platter before i could comprehend the jaws awaiting. Many bodies like mine are subject to scrutiny so precise and violent it constricts airways and blurs vision. 

Bodies holding so much life it scares people that they might hold the same amount. Bodies so different, people stop and stare. Bodies that function well but break aesthetic molds. 

The consumption that devours my body and those like mine is so deeply ingrained we’re taught to shield our eyes at the sight of a mirror and all the intricate ways we can shrink ourselves. 

But a body is not a project. 

A body always under construction is one that cannot be lived in. 

If there is always a focus on the cabinets that need repainting or the floor that needs re-tiling, there's no appreciation for the stained glass windows or arches in the entry. 

Too long has my focus been on the weight in my arms or the width of my being. 

While there is palpable and complete substance beyond the body, 

the sentiments taught and internalized are excruciating and at times vicious. 

Robbing us of true images of ourselves, meals with friends, and sound sleep. 

And I don’t have answers. I don’t know the right combination of affirmation and therapy to make the shrinking stop altogether. 

I do know it requires a careful critique of the mantras we repeat and who wrote them down. It requires empathy for self and a broader perspective of what it means to be worthy and deserving. 

Most of all it requires patience.


But the good news is that the best thing about a body can be enjoyed right now. 

The best aspect of a body is it houses you. 

A body is the medium through which we experience the world. 

A body houses the quiet memories you don’t share and the loud quips between loved ones. A body houses your intense emotions and mindless scrolling. 

It is an integral part of the good, bad, and neutral life consistently offers. 

Without my body I wouldn't have experienced intense moments filled with music, love, and light. There would be no way to hold those closest to me or for them to recognize me from a mile away. 

I wouldn't be able to be here typing this complicated love letter to my body without everything we’ve been through together. 

I am Delicate and I am Vulnerable. I am Admired and I am Loved. 

Because my body is not my project, it is my home.

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Scenes From a Closeted Convert

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Where are the Mormons in the Movies?