I have been a slave
A slave to all the stares and silent whispers
A slave to the countless remarks
“You’re so tiny!”
“You look smaller every time I see you!”
“My gosh! Don’t you eat?”
A slave to all the jokes about my weight
I have been a slave
A slave to the weighing scale
Every week, several days
Hoping to see a number higher than the day before
I have been a slave
A slave to the mirror
That showed me that my waist was too small
And my thighs too skinny
My arms too frail
My face too sunken
And my collar bone too ‘bony’
I have been a slave
A slave to my thoughts
Thoughts that told me I wasn’t beautiful enough
Thoughts that told me I will never be enough
Thoughts that told me he would never want me
Thoughts that told me he will leave me eventually
Until he did
But not anymore
I refuse to be a slave
Not to the stares and silent whispers
Not to the countless remarks
Not to all the jokes
Not to the weighing scale
Not to the mirror
Not to my thoughts
I accept that I am enough
I accept that I am beautiful
I accept that I am wanted
I accept that I am free