Hiding Place 

Trying to think of

Where I used to hide

When I was a kid

I used books and daydreams

To escape 

A reality where I felt 

Forever on the outside 

And wished on every 

Available star

That I’d be magically transformed 

And “fixed”

I hid in the shed 

Way back behind the house

Where I’d pretend I had a place

In the world

I ran away to the creek nearby

And found comfort 

In imagined fairies and

Talking frogs

I hid in food,

Lots of food

Binging on things I knew were “bad”

And hid the wrappers

Until I hid in my fat, my rolls of flesh

Soft yet ironclad armor

Drawing the rejection I knew I’d get

Figured I deserved 

Because for some reason 

I knew, too, that I did not deserve 

Unconditional love

I had to earn it

But I’d never really deserve it

Where do I hide?

Inside the voices I’ve heard forever

That tell me I’m worthless 

They cut and hurt me

Make me hate myself 

Yet they’re familiar 

And it feels like

It’s all I deserve

I’m not sure 

How to remove the armor,

Blow up the hiding place

And as much as I loathe it

Can I survive without it?

I have a feeling 

I’ll never fully love me

Until I turn my armor

My hiding place

Into art

And beauty

A garden of Eden

For the Me

Who’s always been worthy

Who is

Simply by being.

*Images from “Body Positive” on Pinterest.  I do not own the rights to these images.

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6 thoughts on “Hiding Place 

  1. You’re an amazing writer and you express yourself so beautifully. How I also wish that I could find the same escapism that was much easier when I was little. Being a grownup sucks 😦

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