Belonging

I hold my own face in my hands. I am all of my selves at once: womb me and baby me and little girl me and teenage me and college me. I am me in the bath tub at six and me sobbing on the floor at 24, and me mothering at 36 and gardening at 47 and a grandma at 55. I am me at 63 going for walks in the woods and me at 72 enjoying the warmth of my family around me. I hold my own face in my hands and I tell myself that I deserve to be here. That I chose this life and in all its beauty and hardness I deserve to be here and I am stronger for it. I tell myself that I am a gift to the world and that there is no one else who can be me. I decide who and what to give myself to.

- the day I felt my belonging in my bones