War by Reem Sabra

Posted on May 20, 2013 by


Whenever I hear someone talking about self-conquer, I imagine an army of ants invading my body; and the few unshaven hairs on my arm rise.



When I was 15, my therapist made me stand in front of the full length mirror in her office and say “I am beautiful, I am worth it” out loud. I did not move. I remember just wanting my ass to be glued to the chair. I eventually did drag my body and feet – which both weighed a ton – and stood in front of the god damn mirror. My voice cracked at the “I”; I could not even push the rest of the words out.



During the few moments in which I’m able to occupy my skin, I look at the mirror, linger, and on my best days, say “why have thigh gaps when you can have thigh claps?” and actually believe it.


I don’t know the secret of life – yet -, but I know that the moments I live for, the moments of absolute enlightenment, are the ones at 6 AM, when I’m listening to my past-midnight playlist, when I’m being supplied with IVs of love and comfort and reassurance from me to me, when there are no wars outside or inside the perimeters of my skin, when all my atoms and the tiniest cells in my body are aligned.


And for now, for now that’s okay. That’s completely okay.

Posted in: War