squelch, lard,
rubber rolls-
the butcher’s best!
heaving slabs of
gorged, bulbous,
putrid projections.
a collar of spit,
a beggar’s garb,
mucous fingers and
pancake batter for arms,
there’s room in the pit,
a boulder in my chest,
i am worried for this spirit
so thin you could not hold it.



You know when your body tells you something and you can’t read it? Like, when you’re craving coffee does this mean ‘more’ or does this mean ‘rest’? It’s like walking along with your earphones in and snapping your neck at the sound of a siren, forgetting for a moment that it’s part of the song. Like, when you roll out of bed with him and you wonder: is this lust or love? Do I hate the professor or do I hate the challenge? And then you decide that this is it, this is the reason. “I’m just on my period” and the room is silenced. She taps you on the shoulder and cocks her head. “Hey, why aren’t you outside with the rest of us?” She hands you a beer. “I don’t know, I just want to be alone for a bit”. And it’s the perfect answer for the chronically inadequate. It’s like going vegan because you believe the body should be meatless. Do you know what it’s like to eat plenty but still feel empty?

Can we be still for a moment?

I want to know what you thirst for.


Recently, it’s been so difficult to love myself; I’m always trying to compensate by giving and giving and giving until I feel worthy and appreciated. But then again, it has been a running theme for… my whole life. If I care for you, I care that you don’t want me. I feel like I’m not worth your time. And if I care about you, I long for you to think the best of me, though I believe your love for me is ungrounded. Why do you think so well of me? Why do you think I’m great? You mustn’t really know me. You must be deceiving yourself. You must have low standards to be impressed by me.

I’m unsure of what I deserve, and sometimes, this means settling for less. At least I get a kiss. At least I’m desirable on some level. I can call it pathetic or I can be sympathetic– it’s human to want to feel loved in some way. But I want to be loved for my whole person, to believe that I can be loved, as imperfect as I am. As impossible as it seems. And it’s not self pity, it’s a terrible acceptance. It’s not something I dwell over- I just carry it day to day, a low hum in the background.

I cannot wait to go home, surrounded by people who remind me that I am already loved. This is belonging. This is acceptance, security, comfort. This is home.
I feel a fraction of God’s love through my family and friends, who hurt when I do. “You’re such a wonderful girl, I don’t understand why you feel that way”. “You’re amazing, I just wish you could see, just for a second, the way people see you. It would take all these feelings away”. And the sincerity I feel behind those words is so humbling. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you for loving me enough to accept me, flaws and all #beyonce.
Do I make you feel the way you make me feel? Am I as good to you as you are to me? You make me believe it. I’m enough!

By the power of God, I am enough. How can I love myself when I am so imperfect? I am embarrassed, ashamed. But still, He loves. His love makes me whole- it’s okay to be what I am, because perfection is futile. Through Him, I believe that it is possible to be lovely.

I am amazed by and thankful for this love because I know I don’t deserve it. But since I am loved, I will accept that I am loveable. There is nothing I can do to deserve it, because it is a given. I am not defined by the love people have failed to show me but by the love of the Father.

You’re a good good Father,
It’s who you are.
And I’m loved by you.
It’s who I am.

The million dollar question

What is it that makes us who we are? I was inspired by a blog post by suzjones and began to think… is the primal part of myself more me than the part of me that wants to suppress it? Am I my desires and impulses or is the ‘real me’ who I am when I try to regulate them? Or is the real me who I try to be; who I want to be? I’ve read about the ‘authentic self’ being the self whose behaviour stems from within- from what you were created to be, and I think that includes whatever improvement you think you need to be happy with yourself.

I’ve departed from my younger, loud, bossy, and sometimes over-confident self. I behaved naturally, the way most children do, against social etiquette, choosing to be blunt and honest over being polite. I tended to sing too loudly (in an attempt to drown out my cousin’s voices), and I’d take the first chance to grab a mic if there was one (this happened at someone else’s birthday party too). How annoying. I don’t think I was born to perpetuate my child-like behaviour, acting as if I was the only person that mattered on the planet. The truth is, I live in a world full of people that I need to consider, so I have to find a way to accommodate others. This means changing the egocentric-ism that comes so naturally to me, and being able to move forward from this means maturity. It does not detract from my being ‘real’- it just means I’m learning and striving towards who I want to be. It is only when change occurs in a direction I don’t want to travel in that we have a problem.

Yes, we take on a series of roles daily and we adapt to different situations and personality types. We need to keep some of our dimensions to ourselves- that is, the part of ourselves that wants to talk back to a professor or a boss, for example. There is a professional self, and then the self that you share with your close friends. And then there’s you when you’re alone. Every situation calls for behavioural adjustment, and I don’t think that these dimensions make a person any less ‘authentic’, for every side of you and every role you assume fits together to create this whole person.

From a religious perspective, finding my authentic self is about denouncing my ‘old’ self. As a Christian, I aim to be more and more Christ-like. I am to put to death the sinner within me and be renewed, choosing to live the way I was called to live, no matter how difficult that is in a world where God is replaced and displaced by everything else.  There is an element of consistency in being me as I want to act according to the values and principles that are important to me.  So as long as I am looking to be the best me that I can be (and that is an on-going process of change), I am the real me.