audio: https://soundcloud.com/tia-188659352/tiakeo_findyourvoice_06
Bags and bags of stuff. She'd emptied her closet and only returned the items that were in active rotation. The breathing room inside the closet felt like a breath of fresh air in her lungs. "Okay. This is reality. This is maintainable." Her gaze shifted to the bags of items that no longer belonged in her closet, that no longer fit her body. She could still feel them on her skin, how good she had felt wearing those pants, the confidence the clothes had instilled in her. Her eyes closed in memory and in disgust. How easily her impression of herself could tank. Nit. Pick. All. The. Flaws. The back and forth in her brain could've come right out of a Saturday morning cartoon. One sweet voice whispering in one ear. A louder, firm voice yelling in the other. The brainwashing had done its job, the self-criticism ran deep. Logically she knew why her instincts immediately went to the dark side, how she'd been taught to dislike the parts of her that didn't fit the magazines. Logically she knew she'd been targeted her entire life and no matter how brave that sweet voice was prepared to be, it was drowned out. The clothes hanging in the closet symbolized the growing acceptance she had for her very self. Embracing the truth of what her body was at this moment was a powerful act of self-love. Like the sun breaking through the clouds, she could see clearly now. The winding path required nearly constant navigation around the landmines of nostalgia. She'd have to move the bags outside of the house - not just into storage.