Dysmorphia.
- Sam John
- Mar 19
- 1 min read
I Resist.
I train.
Every day is an attempt to wake up, look in the mirror and be okay with what I see looking back at me.
No matter what I do, I can’t seem to shake it.This built up and fed voice that claims my worth through the body I inhabit.
The body I’ve fought, cried, and bled to build.
I try to bat away at the thoughts of being invalid due to the way I look and though I often times win, sometimes, somehow I find myself lost in a conflict of confidence and love.
Lost in this battlefield where my body isn’t what I want it to be…
But is what I am learning to love, regardless.
Yours faithfully,
Dysmorphia.
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