Exist.

Anger. Hate.
My body deserves only hatred. My hatred. It...I am hideous.
I exist in a society that tells me this every day - that my body isn't even good, nevermind beautiful.
As women, we are constantly bombarded with this message. This assault does not discriminate other than to tailor the message for maximum impact to a given woman or group. Those women who must fight, or have fought, to have their gender recognized - to be recognized as women - are not exempt.
We are told that we can have that perfect body but at a price. And it is a lie, for even after paying it, the message does not abate - there is yet another hurdle.
Women's insecurities - hatred of their own bodies - is damned profitable.
I prefer to love myself. I don't always succeed, but the rewards are incredible when I do.
Tonight, I failed. I gave in to, or was overtaken by that self-hate. And it did something to me. It did something that makes me fear it, knowing that it is a mortal threat to me.
It took away my voice.
It did so both figuratively and literally. I could not make myself speak, and I was robbed of my ability to express myself. Reduced to tears, I felt a need to say something to my wife, and anger and fear as I could not form the sounds of the words I needed to say.
I know what that self-hate and anger does; it takes away the strongest, most powerful tool I have and which I fought hard to regain. I lost it once, nearly forty years ago, taken by decades of an abusive parent's control. I will not yield it again.
I broke the tyranny that is the control of an abusive parent. I beat self-injury. I bested my depression. I am winning the battle with an eating disorder. I can say "no" to the society demanding that I surgically alter my beautiful body to chase an unobtainable goal. I do not need FFS or BA and, more importantly, I do not want them. I will be stronger than that.

I wrote this last night, following a very emotionally difficult experience. Rather woke-up with an emotional hang-over this morning.