Acceptance- A Novel Idea

No body shaming allowed.
This Table of Contents
is padded. Or solid.
Thesaurus of synonyms.

So what if I have canckles? I
inherited these piano legs
from my grandmother.'Good German
peasant stock,' she'd say.

Never skinny, thin, svelte.
Hip-huggers worked, back in the day
because I had hips. Mini-skirts--
not so much. Required thigh gaps did not exist.

A dialog of contradictions:
conversations caught between
what 'is' and what 'should' be.
I am who and what I am.

I remember looking at catalogs
of clothes I did not have the body type for
or the clothes never came in 'my' size.
Riding boots were made especially for me.

It was embarrassing back then.
Fishnet stocking, all the rage,
made my legs look like they
were jammed in chicken-wire cage.

Chapters verse by
as years morph into becoming
my grandmother. She, too, was a study:
contradictionary.

Rubinesque, my grandmother said,
but Twiggy was queen. I was lost
inbetween. Then again, I never fit
anyone's mold. Now, I'd break it.

To my doctor's dismay
I am quite comfy in my skin.
These days, I am my own style.
Chances are, I love it if it's 'out!'

A crazy quilt of 'me'-ness.
Catalogs have caught on ... or up.
I page through now, and smile.
It is all laid out.

Jammies, newsboy caps,
funcky jackets, turtle necks,
crazy sneakers, flowy sleeves,
Victorian or Rennaisance.

My own fashion plate. Yet.
I am not the clothes I wear.
Or what i weigh. What I say?
I'll own. Into Me - I've grown!

Epilog --despite there, as yet,
being no final pages. I am complete.
Almost. Still a trick or two up my sleeve
for any and all final chapters.

I am entitled to my acceptance.
Ruffle through the pages if you dare
for they are numbered out of order.
This book is more than its cover.