I am strong. I can be strong. I have to be strong. I don’t care what people think. I walk with ease, pushing judgements to the far edges of my mind. They’re unable to scratch my surface. I put up the cool walls of collectiveness, of togetherness. I am not a twig, nor close to skinny at all. But I don’t care. I am strong. I can be strong. I have to be strong.

But there are the days. The days like today. The days were I am discouraged with what I love. Discouraged and beaten down. All I want to is to be in the comfort and safety of my home before having to plunge back into the world full of flesh ripping tigers, jumping at a gazelle for their afternoon lunch. But even my home is not my home. The evils of the outside world have seeped into the walls of my home. The evils of the world have made it’s way into my floorboards, creaking with every step I take.

Today I was reminded about my haunting past. A dark place where a cycle of starvation and self harm once consumed my life. That person probably has no idea of what their comments can affect, what memories it can bring back. Tonight, I was tempted. I was tempted to crawl back to habits, to what I once called home.

I am strong. I can be strong. I have to be strong.