Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Archive for the tag “soul”

Birthday Presents from the Heart

I think I was 8. The age doesn’t matter.

I ran downstairs, excited at the prospect of my birthday present.

My mom was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, smoking a Marlboro Light. She looked up and saw my grin and excitedly told me Happy Birthday!!

My gift was laying on the table and she told me to open it. I knew it was clothes just by the feel.

I ripped the paper off and unfolded a dream!

They were perfect!! Light blue, brushed denim bell bottoms with embroidered butterflies. They took my breath away. Every last stitch made with love by my mother.

It’s one of my best birthday present memories ever.

And now I have another best birthday present memory to add to it.

It also took my breath away.

My Man wrote me a poem. It’s not his normal style of writing, but he ventured there for me.

It was beautiful, constructed of his feelings in meter, and it made me cry. My Man said it wasn’t supposed to make me cry.

But they were happy tears. They were tears that said My Man knows my heart, and he speaks to my soul.

I think I was almost 45. The age doesn’t matter.

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Hello Soul, Do I Know You?

Why do I feel the pull?

What is it that has led me to you

And you to me

And then away again?

It’s in my gut

The need to reach out,

To touch you,

To know your soul.

It seems so familiar to me.

Hello soul,

Have we met before?

I feel like I’ve known you for. . . .

Forever.

Is that what it feels like?

Love, I mean?

Because I’m not sure anymore.

Sing. . . .

My body tells a story.

Every scar, every wrinkle, every stretch mark, every tattoo, every gray hair,

Reminds me of who I am and where I have come from.

It tells me that once I was a daredevil on roller skates and a bike,

That I have laughed millions of times, and that my face has been salted by tears.

It shows the marks of a mother’s love,

one whom I have had the pleasure of loving intensely and close-up,

and another from far away who will never understand the limits of my love.

See my love for nature, and my birthplace, and one of the most beautiful flowers I know because of its wildness and simplicity?

And my longing for water because it soothes the turbulence in me?

See my desire for flight from all that binds my soul?  My longing to cast off others’ ideas about me and my quest to be beautiful in my own right and to love freely?

My need to feel balance in my life which seems so off-kilter at times because of my intense passions?

Oh, and there’s that graying hair,

Peeking through the fiery red I have applied which represents my personality so well.

I will never let the world see my true age, at least in my hair, because I feel younger than my 43 years.

Do you see my story?

Look closely.

My body?

It sings my song. . . .

Take This Job And. . .

I wish I knew what I wanted to be when I grow up. But I never want to grow up so much that I lose my fascination with the world. Some days I feel way too serious and responsible. Today was one of those days. My job has been kicking my butt this week. My job has been kicking my butt for a long time. My job gives nothing back to me. Don’t get me wrong–my job pays pretty well, and I have benefits. That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s more than just job satisfaction I’m looking for. I’m looking for a soul re-charge. My job gives me absolutely nothing for my soul. I’m certain this is why I feel so depleted. I am constantly exhausted because my soul is not full. My job only takes from my soul and never adds to it. The hardest job in the world is easy to do if it fills your soul.

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