Out on a Limb

by Hannah Bonam-Young

I don’t try to force my body to be something or deprive it of pleasantness. It just is. And I like it, enough, as is.

He looks up to the ceiling as if he’s searching for some deity to help him handle me. I like that a lot.

Because of this, I learned quickly that in order to preserve the life I wanted, I had to avoid inviting a man in.

Dry humping is so underrated.

Trueee

It’s not that I dislike my body, or my stomach in particular. It’s just that I find there’s less risk of insecurity spiking the more I act as if I don’t have a body at all.

You can’t change anything by hiding it. You’ll just look back on memories and realize you tried to erase yourself.

The power that I had given him to validate my desirability. The power I could give to someone else if I was foolish enough.

“Oh my gosh, Mom and Dad-uh. Leave me alone,” I say like a moody teenager. “You guys are so annoying,” Bo adds in his own similar whine.