We were taught to fear our bodies.⁣
Taught to keep watch.⁣
To stay alert.⁣
To brace.⁣

Fear that one cookie⁣
would lead to the whole bag.⁣
Fear that one more pound on our body⁣
was the gateway to six hundred.⁣

Fear that desire⁣
meant danger.⁣
Fear that being unwanted⁣
meant worthlessness.⁣⁣

Taught to fear getting too big.⁣
Too small.⁣
Too soft.⁣
Too loud.⁣
Too visible.⁣
Too invisible.⁣

Fear when we changed.⁣
Fear when we didn’t.⁣
Fear when the breasts came.⁣
Fear when they didn’t.⁣

Fear when they fed a baby,⁣
and didn’t bounce back.⁣
Fear when they shrank⁣
with time or surgery.⁣

Taught to fear hormones shifting—⁣
puberty, pregnancy, infertility, ⁣
perimenopause, post-menopause,⁣
as if they were blaring sirens,⁣
announcing doom.⁣

Fear of becoming our mothers.⁣
Fear of not becoming them.⁣
Fear of diabetes.⁣
Fear of diagnosis.⁣
Fear of pain.⁣
Of aging.⁣
Of slowing.⁣
Of stopping. ⁣

Fear that the body⁣
is always on the edge of betrayal.⁣

So we tightened.⁣
Monitored.⁣
Managed.⁣
Punished.⁣
Performed.⁣

We called it discipline.⁣
We called it health.⁣
We called it being good.⁣
But it was fear—⁣
dressed up⁣
in control.⁣

What would it feel like⁣
to not be afraid?⁣

To move through your day⁣
not scanning for danger⁣
in your reflection?⁣

To eat⁣
without doing the math?⁣
To soften⁣
without shame?⁣

What would it feel like⁣
to belong to your body⁣
like it was home?⁣

Safe.⁣
Held.⁣
Trustworthy.⁣
Tender.⁣
Sacred.⁣

Your body,⁣
not a battlefield,⁣
not a time bomb—⁣
but a companion⁣
on this human ride.⁣

What would it feel like⁣
to lay down the fear⁣
and finally⁣
rest⁣
in your own skin?⁣

~ Nina Manolson