2018-04-24 / 11:42 p.m.

I feel as though huge facets of my identity have been both forged and stolen as a result of always having to apologise for the amount of space that I’ve taken up.

I missed out on a lot of experiences because of a fear of being reprimanded for not being my recommended size. I was so grateful for every man that ever paid any attention to me. So sorry, so apologetic for him having gotten interested in such a half-person. I never felt feminine enough or pretty enough or intelligent enough or interesting enough. I’ve almost made it to the end of my third decade and it’s only now that I’m understanding that my youth has been a trauma, a chronicle of micro-aggressions because I didn’t know how to treat my body right.