I’ve been thinking lately of the ways we hold ourselves up.
I spent so long, all of my adult life, not bearing the brunt of that burden. I always had someone at home who loved me who would let me lean on them when I wanted to collapse. I was always allowed to collapse. It’s the beautiful thing of relationships, of partnerships, of love. But I never had to learn any other way. I never had to hold myself up, alone.
And now I do. It seems a silly thing to complain about, a silly thing to grapple with. I’m aware most everyone who may read these words knows how to stay upright of their own accord. Maybe that learning came with it’s own period of growing pains. The shockwaves which I’m only feeling now, year 27. I’ve said before, know one can know my mind. No one can love my body. But I still miss the attempts.