Shoved to the back of the shelf with a hole in my belly. My appearance invites conversations about identity and isms, so I suppose I can't complain about my station in life. I came into the world like this, but it's your perception that defines me. Some see a foe, a friend, a fetish. I will work with whatever I get, just don't give away my place at the table.
Posted in Acceptance, Balance, Belief, Body, Change, Community, Conversations, Fear, Friendship, Human Nature, Identity, Image, Intention, Pain, Perception, Scars, Self, Shame, Work
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