I could say something like, "I feel seen." And I do. Or I could say, "your words are magic elixir.," also true. But I need to say something bigger.
I grew up as a girl, and so much of this feels familiar and real and like my own memories of myself. Like so many of us were given this same, secret script and then told not to tell anyone else, and here you are confessing, and THAT part feels seen. But it's more than that.
I feel seen by your words as a transgender human. As a man who's body will never fit any norms, as a father who birthed his children and sees the stretch marks from it in the mirror, as a person who has wanted out of this life and nearly made it happen, your words found me.
robin this is such a deeply affecting comment, I’m not sure I know what to say. so many of us never fit into any norms and I know how debilitating that can feel, though only from one perspective. it makes me heart happy I could reach you with my words, and I’m sorry you had to go through wanting to leave this world, I know it’s something that stays with you long after its gone. I’m beyond glad you’re here, thank you for your kind words <3 <3
Seconding this. Although I’ve not had any children (and damn, kudos to you on that, Robin), I’ve found myself in a very strange place the last few years as I’ve become disabled. I’ve been forced to reckon with the reality that I may never achieve the look of “skinny, muscular, fluffy haired trans man” and that my body, though changed through transition, may never fully release its grip on some of the weight I gained in girlhood.
Folks like you, Hannah and Robin, remind me that this body is a blessing whether it looks a certain way or not. Thank you for giving me a soft place to land. ♥️
it certainly is a blessing, what a lovely way of phrasing it. it’s difficult to remember at times but your body keeps you going and deserves all the love you can give it. I’m glad this resonated and gave you a soft place to land, that makes me happy for you <3
Thank you for your vulnerability. This piece meant so much to me. My body has been so many different shapes and sizes in my life, and I feel deep ambivalence about it. It’s crushing and so hard to talk about with both honesty and empathy. I, too, don’t really know what it looks like to heal, to live in an embodied way, but this piece made me feel hopeful about continuing to try.
I’m so glad to hear it made you feel hopeful. ambivalence is a spot on word for it and I know it’s often so difficult to talk about it, thank you for reading <3
thank u so much for sharing this. sometimes i wish i could exist without a body at all, because i know it’s tied to how people see me. it’s hard and relentless and sometimes hopeless, but we’re obviously not alone in these feelings and that means something. your words are so honest and vulnerable and i know this must’ve been an arduous piece to write. 🤍
this is so great Hannah — i read through this with a voice in the back of my mind going “yes yes yes yes” in a low steady beat. you’re writing is so deeply personal and experiential here and yet i also related so much to it all and to the way you expressed it and these thoughts! i’ve always found it so hard to try to write out something similar without sounding like i want reassurance or pity or whatever; this was just such a perfect mediation that i found a lot of solace in 🫶
i’m coming to this piece a bit late as i’ve only just joined substack, but wanted to take a moment to thank you for your beautiful writing. the food spitting mention hit me like a gut punch because it was something i regularly used to do myself, but had pushed back to the recesses of my memory. i’ve just this year started attending an outpatient eating disorder practice to actively pursue recovery after 10+ years of anorexia. hoping for peace and strength for both of us ❤️
Beautiful! I've started saying, 'I was born in the wrong century with my Renaissance body,' and it even changes how I walk and stride. Aren't we all walking pieces of art? Yes, yes, we are. Thank you for your vulnerability—it's something we’re all better for
Oh god, I have no words for how this piece meant to me. I am sobbing over this offering of vulnerability and I feel so seen and I love it so much. Thank you, thank you.
This is such a powerful piece. How strange it is to be an adult woman, looking back at my younger self, a girl wrought with hatred and anxiety about her body, and to feel such deep compassion, while still feeling the residue of this self-hatred on me. How strange it is to look back and see how I inherited this fear and loathing from my mother, without her meaning to pass it on. She was young, insecure, desperately wanting love, seeing her "beauty" as her strongest currency. I feel angry, and confused, and empathetic, and kinship all at once. She inherited these things from someone, too. She carries this residue too. I no longer hunger to destroy my body, but the urge to brutally critique it is something I must shut down again and again. It is infuriating. Life is long. I feel like the best we can do is have the courage to be unabashedly ourselves, as terrifying as it is at times, to show up flawed and scarred and stretched and misshapen (all the things we tell ourselves) and to let ourselves be loved as that. It is a gift to others when we do this. They notice. It gives them permission to do the same. I know because someone did this for me once, and it changed my life.
I loved this piece. Thank you for showing up bravely. Absolutely beautiful work.
thank you for this comment it made me tear up a bit. there is so many complex emotions caught up in how our feelings about our bodies relate to our mothers feelings and its not talked about often enough. and you’re absolutely right, the bravest thing we can do is show up as we are, thank you for this reminder. lots of love to you <3
I could say something like, "I feel seen." And I do. Or I could say, "your words are magic elixir.," also true. But I need to say something bigger.
I grew up as a girl, and so much of this feels familiar and real and like my own memories of myself. Like so many of us were given this same, secret script and then told not to tell anyone else, and here you are confessing, and THAT part feels seen. But it's more than that.
I feel seen by your words as a transgender human. As a man who's body will never fit any norms, as a father who birthed his children and sees the stretch marks from it in the mirror, as a person who has wanted out of this life and nearly made it happen, your words found me.
So... Thanks for that.
robin this is such a deeply affecting comment, I’m not sure I know what to say. so many of us never fit into any norms and I know how debilitating that can feel, though only from one perspective. it makes me heart happy I could reach you with my words, and I’m sorry you had to go through wanting to leave this world, I know it’s something that stays with you long after its gone. I’m beyond glad you’re here, thank you for your kind words <3 <3
Seconding this. Although I’ve not had any children (and damn, kudos to you on that, Robin), I’ve found myself in a very strange place the last few years as I’ve become disabled. I’ve been forced to reckon with the reality that I may never achieve the look of “skinny, muscular, fluffy haired trans man” and that my body, though changed through transition, may never fully release its grip on some of the weight I gained in girlhood.
Folks like you, Hannah and Robin, remind me that this body is a blessing whether it looks a certain way or not. Thank you for giving me a soft place to land. ♥️
it certainly is a blessing, what a lovely way of phrasing it. it’s difficult to remember at times but your body keeps you going and deserves all the love you can give it. I’m glad this resonated and gave you a soft place to land, that makes me happy for you <3
Thank you for your vulnerability. This piece meant so much to me. My body has been so many different shapes and sizes in my life, and I feel deep ambivalence about it. It’s crushing and so hard to talk about with both honesty and empathy. I, too, don’t really know what it looks like to heal, to live in an embodied way, but this piece made me feel hopeful about continuing to try.
I’m so glad to hear it made you feel hopeful. ambivalence is a spot on word for it and I know it’s often so difficult to talk about it, thank you for reading <3
this is so beautifully constructed and felt like being seen. thank you for writing <3
thank you for reading!!
Wow this is such a special offering. My heart felt it and then couldn’t stop feeling it xx
thank you!! (,:
I have no words. This was spectacular!!
thank you!!! <3 <3
thank u so much for sharing this. sometimes i wish i could exist without a body at all, because i know it’s tied to how people see me. it’s hard and relentless and sometimes hopeless, but we’re obviously not alone in these feelings and that means something. your words are so honest and vulnerable and i know this must’ve been an arduous piece to write. 🤍
thank you for reading!! I know how it feels and I’m glad I could provide some comfort <3
this is so great Hannah — i read through this with a voice in the back of my mind going “yes yes yes yes” in a low steady beat. you’re writing is so deeply personal and experiential here and yet i also related so much to it all and to the way you expressed it and these thoughts! i’ve always found it so hard to try to write out something similar without sounding like i want reassurance or pity or whatever; this was just such a perfect mediation that i found a lot of solace in 🫶
this is such a lovely compliment thank you!! I’m beyond glad you found some solace in it <3
Love the way you formatted this one -- beautiful writing as always. <3 "body as heirloom" will stick with me for a very long time. big squeeze.
thank you love <3
Revisiting this and it is so, so beautifully written, Hannah!
awh emma thank you!! appreciate you <3 <3
i’m coming to this piece a bit late as i’ve only just joined substack, but wanted to take a moment to thank you for your beautiful writing. the food spitting mention hit me like a gut punch because it was something i regularly used to do myself, but had pushed back to the recesses of my memory. i’ve just this year started attending an outpatient eating disorder practice to actively pursue recovery after 10+ years of anorexia. hoping for peace and strength for both of us ❤️
sending you so so much love & hope you’ll get through this <3 thank you for reading & for being here
Beautiful! I've started saying, 'I was born in the wrong century with my Renaissance body,' and it even changes how I walk and stride. Aren't we all walking pieces of art? Yes, yes, we are. Thank you for your vulnerability—it's something we’re all better for
thank you for reading!! I love that phrase <3
Thank you for sharing this wonderful piece with us
thank you for reading!! <3
i am crying
sending so so much love <3 <3
My inner child is sobbing, thank you for this 😭
thank you for reading <3
Oh god, I have no words for how this piece meant to me. I am sobbing over this offering of vulnerability and I feel so seen and I love it so much. Thank you, thank you.
I’m tearing up at this comment thank you for your kind words (‘: and thank you for reading!!! lots of love and healing to you <3
This is such a powerful piece. How strange it is to be an adult woman, looking back at my younger self, a girl wrought with hatred and anxiety about her body, and to feel such deep compassion, while still feeling the residue of this self-hatred on me. How strange it is to look back and see how I inherited this fear and loathing from my mother, without her meaning to pass it on. She was young, insecure, desperately wanting love, seeing her "beauty" as her strongest currency. I feel angry, and confused, and empathetic, and kinship all at once. She inherited these things from someone, too. She carries this residue too. I no longer hunger to destroy my body, but the urge to brutally critique it is something I must shut down again and again. It is infuriating. Life is long. I feel like the best we can do is have the courage to be unabashedly ourselves, as terrifying as it is at times, to show up flawed and scarred and stretched and misshapen (all the things we tell ourselves) and to let ourselves be loved as that. It is a gift to others when we do this. They notice. It gives them permission to do the same. I know because someone did this for me once, and it changed my life.
I loved this piece. Thank you for showing up bravely. Absolutely beautiful work.
thank you for this comment it made me tear up a bit. there is so many complex emotions caught up in how our feelings about our bodies relate to our mothers feelings and its not talked about often enough. and you’re absolutely right, the bravest thing we can do is show up as we are, thank you for this reminder. lots of love to you <3