Becoming Bella

If I ever found a genie in a bottle, my wishes 1 through 3 would be to be thinner.

Every birthday since my thighs began to touch, I blew out my candles with a revolving wish.

I wish to be thinner, I’d whisper as the smoke began to rise and the light faded before my eyes.

Every train track I’d lift my feet and ask for those haunting scale numbers to lower with fleet.

A shooting star would light the sky and I’d repeat the all-consuming thought as I closed my eyes.

I search my wallet at every fountain I see.

Watching every penny sink down, wondering how much money I’ve spent, wishing to be skinny.

Every fortune cookie I’d open with the hope for a sign that my wishing would come true in the blink of an eye.

I’ve begged God day and night for a different body

Come as you are, the Bible explains, and yet all I wish for is to come as someone I’ve never been.

Sometimes I think I wish so often as a means to reverse the curse that is my body.

As though my body is a penance for something I did in a previous life.

Constantly stuck apologizing for taking up space and pleading for a better number.

A lower number I’d wish, a different body I’d pray, a completely different person I’d beg.

XOXO, Bella

I wrote this poem a few months ago when I was dealing with some body image issues. I hope this reaches someone who relates. You are not alone.