1 POSTS
‘Please stop Holly’, I beg. Please stop reader. Work through your pain. Work through your crying. Work through your divorce, and job losses, and eating disorders and breakdowns and all things ugly and imperfect. But work through them with a silent acknowledgement of getting on the other side of shit. That’s what this year has been for me. Realizing, Goddamn woman, you are on the other side of shit. You made it. You’re here. Congratulations. You were hurt but you’re no longer a victim. Your bruises have healed. You are not laying at the bottom of the stairs any more. His boot is no longer raised above your head. Your dad’s letters are fading. The scars on your body have paled. Your children feel the kiss on their foreheads and know they are loved and accepted and safe. Your husband loves your silly ass and you needn’t fear him. Food is no longer the enemy and it’s damn yummy. You’re a healthy gorgeous weight. You have your dark, boozy, jazzy nights but they no longer end in a tearful bloody drunken mess. Damn woman, you’re on the other side of shit and that is enough.
