sometimes, though, i catch myself. i have a moment of clarity. i dont do positive affirmations that place me as the sexy sleek chic super spindly supermodel that giggles and little hearts float above her soft full locks of flowing hair that rests gently on her size C cupped breasts that gently yet pertly hang above her rock hard abs holding her tight ass and perfectly shaped muscular legs and petite heels, pedicured toes, entire frame --slightly hovering over the earth.
i dont go there. anymore. i dont even try.
whenever i do, i fail.
it just aint me.
and maybe aint any other body.
instead, now, the best i can hope for as i catch myself looking from those scaly features, gills for lungs and horns growing from my wrinkly brow --instead, i place myself as i am: 5'7" 130 lbs, thin brown hair that shines in the sun, little curly grey strands poking out, a smile that lights up my big brown eyes. my mother's bohemian nose to compliment my father's thin lips. perky B cup chest and a 34 year old butt (if you're under 30 reading this, enjoy it while you can). i see the thin frame with a funny little tiny belly, that wont budge no matter how many crunches i crunch or marathons i run. straight white teeth with an overbite and a fair complexion dotted by an outbreak of zits scattering my neck --subtle but there.
i glance at her in the mirror and smile. huh, she's pretty...
i smile, too, at the troll beast. she's become good company. and i've found that she's not going anywhere. she doesn't have to, not until she's ready.