She’s been single for almost four months now. She’d forgotten how it can feel – or maybe it didn’t feel like this last time she was single? No, it didn’t feel like this. She was young then, and… what was it? a carefree feeling? a confidence that she could be loved and desired and valued? a self assurance that came from… well, from people wanting her. She had always had people wanting her, she had always known that she could have pretty much any guy if she just showed an interest, a willingness. Her body was desirable, back then.
Nine years later, who is she? what is her worth in the singles market? looking in the mirror she sees a tummy that hadn’t been there before, and she’s not so sure of herself.
She’s had nine years of being cooked for and fed and made fat by the person who claimed to love her but kept putting her down, making her feel less and less lovable. Could she have seen the violence coming? Should she have seen it coming? She had stayed on because she kept believing she could love that person better – she knew where the horrible stuff was coming from, she knew the mess that had been caused by abuse, she knew the history behind it all, and she thought, she really thought, that staying on and showing love to that hurting person would make the hurt go away.
She’s not sure who she is now. And she feels very very unsure of what she’s worth.