Me:
Okay, so what if I gave you the chance
to speak
to take up space
and
what if I just listened?
To your experience
To your side of the story?
Would you be honest with me?
Would you want to speak?
Essentially, I am asking:
Do you feel safe with me?
My body:
Well, if you are being serious,
if you really want to hear
and get close to my experience,
then you may want to have a seat.
With some trepidation and nervous shakiness
I will start.
All I have to do is start.
Why can it be so hard to start?
Deep breath, here I go…
For starters, I am not for consumption
Or objectification. Yours or anyone’s.
I am powerful
And glorious
And wise.
Oh, and so beautiful.
I have been marked by life
That has grown and also been sustained by me
for nine months.
I got to witness the intricate fragile process of life
At each stage
Until that life met you.
I knew them first.
I carried, cradled, and soothed them
Long before you did.
I know quite a bit about life
In all its glory
And how quickly it can
Be taken or changed.
I am not meant for confinement
Or to fit into some box
Or someone else’s ideals
Rules
Rigidity
Regulations
Containers.
I am meant to expand
To feel the fullness of each emotion
And meal.
To grow
To experience abundance
Extravagance and indulgence.
Please stop restricting me
so that I can fit a certain type of
Toxic beauty ideal
Based on white patriarchal cultural “norms.”
Dismantle that shit.
(That is probably more of a
A begging desperation.)
Feed me. Like, really feed me.
Good good food.
And let me give myself to
The enjoyment of such fare.
Let me like what I like.
I do not want to feel confined
By the clothes I wear
Or deeply ingrained messages.
I want softness
Looseness
The ability to move.
Gentleness and sweetness
A tender care
In tone and texture.
Color. Vibrance. Life.
I am here and I exist
And I belong.
I want you to like me.
Like, really really like me.
To be greeted with affection
From those deep blue beautiful eyes of yours.
Let us do away with disgust, disgrace, and harshness.
We both know we have borne that for
WAY too long.
Let us create something beautiful together, shall we?
What do you say?
Will you let me show you just how
magical, mysterious and downright
Ingenious I am?
It’s part of the way I am made
And
If you will let me, I will blow you away!
We will have to learn to trust each other.
Trust can be tricky.
It cannot be
Shaped
Pulled
Picked
Controlled
And molded
Into tiny little forms—
Or any form, for that matter.
Our trust in each other has been broken.
We have seen each other as enemies.
We have been taught to
Discredit
Disown
Detach.
But what if we are each other’s
Greatest gift?
What if you,
Leaning into me
Listening to me
And slowly learning
To trust me
Could unleash the
Fullness
Trueness
Wildness
and
Freedom
That you deeply long for?
Trust is wild.
It’s risky
Costly
And can be very messy,
But in all the ways
A good story or movie
Or life lived is.
Can you trust me to tell you the truth?
It’s not like telling you what to do,
or how to live, or what to say
or what to eat and how much,
What is bad and what is good.
There is agency.
Choice.
Options.
So, can you trust me
That I am a good good body
And I am for you?
Amy Rupple has been on a journey to uncover, connect with, and freely express her most authentic self, buried over many years of heartache. She longs to find meaning, depth, and beauty in the mundane and in the unexpected losses of everyday life in Portland, Oregon. Married to her long-time crush for 15 years, Amy is mama to four wild, lively, tender, disruptive boys. She loves dreaming, imagining, designing, and creating deliciously beautiful food to share with others.
