I used to fear undressing in front of my own family

And being the punchline of a fat joke

Or at the wrong end of a stomach poke

As if their opinions weren’t just as warped by society as my own

I used to fear the feel of hands on my skin

And lying naked in the arms of someone I loved

As if their point of view would change

Because of the body caressed beneath their fingers

So sure that they would feel deceived

By the imagine in which they believed

Thought I would not measure up when actually seen

I feared once we were past the clothing that hid insecurities

Once I was stripped down to pure vulnerability

They would replace that love of the ideal with shame of the real

I feared I was not worthy of the image in their head

I used to fear dying in the shower

And being naked during my final moments alive

As if after the last breath escaped my lungs

I would still somehow be able to critique myself

While floating atop the scene of my demise like a translucent ghost

Eyeing my frame up and down

The same way I do now if I catch myself in the mirror while getting dressed

Disgusted by the rolls on my lifeless body

Hating the cellulite on my limp legs

I feared I would watch a stranger stumble upon the scene

And not be attracted to the living image that this corpse used to be

I feared my soul would still yearn to be thin as my physical remains decay

But who am I kidding…

I am still afraid to love myself

SWD 03/2018

Updated 05/2018

Second update 06/2018