I Don’t Know Whose Body I’m In

That Reflection is a G-Damned Liar.

Photo by RepentAnd SeekChristJesus on Unsplash

I don’t know whose body I’m in. Inside, I’m the same as I always have been. Spiritual, magical, mystical, enchanted, sparkly. But I don’t hold the same charisma. I’m not some 25-year-old Las Vegas bartender in Daisy Dukes weighing in at 125 pounds. Gone is the long, blond mane that I wore like a golden crown. My Cheshire Cat smile that used to take up my whole face is now hidden for fear that the silver in my partial will show.

I’m getting a new partial next week without the metallic eye-sore. But that’s not my point.

I’ve started making TikTok videos lately. It began with makeup tutorials because I’m now promoting the makeup I learned to love, a cream-based makeup for “mature skin.”

Ugh. Really? When did I become someone with mature skin?

But then I started going on what I call TikTok walks where I grab my selfie stick and head out the door for a 15-minute walk, one that I need for two reasons. First, because I got fat. Second, because I got fat due to a leg injury (a doozy!), the inability to move, and a new lonesome lifestyle that left me eating my boredom and emotions.

It’s the first time I’ve ever lived alone, and food equals love. Food equals entertainment. Food equals instant gratification. Food…

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