Why are there boundaries? 

Artwork:Solo by Kevin A. Williams

Why are there boundaries? To..keep..us… stagnant? To keep us in line? To keep us? I think back to years ago in high school (I can literally say years ago because my 10 year reunion is coming up in July smh) all these “journeys” I would go on to find myself. To center myself, to find some type of connection that I knew was missing. My living situation wasn’t the best. I mean, I had parents. I had what any child needed. It was just a bit more complicated than what this post needs to be about. In high school you had to kinda learn to ‘fake it till you make’, pick at yourself before anybody else could. Beat them to the punchline so at least you could laugh with them. The typical bullshit. Behind closed doors was something different. Something that’s not easily picked up on. Since the complications of my little life began so early, the issue of accepting this delicate, petite, beautiful body became a nightmare. Nausea would set it. The reflection became torturous. A young woman in her early twenties can’t bare the sight of herself? There are certain milestones everyone must hit when it comes to understanding oneself. Currently reading this book “Towards Awakening” and the letters etched into my skin just make me relive and realize that you must question everything. I mean everything. I had body issues, how do you solve the fight between mind and body? You push the boundaries of your comfort zone and begin to live freely. I hated what carried my spirit, what carried my heart. I couldn’t figure out how to love my body. I can’t even say how to love my body again because the innocence was never there. There wasn’t a chance for innocence. So from the dirt left behind I had to find a way to come clean. A way that allowed me to begin on my own terms. It was the day I really took ownership of myself. Took ownership of my sexuality. My body. My art. My life. It was my declaration that I want my body. I want to love my body. I want to feel body. I want to be ok with living in my body. So I made a very bold move, a very out of the comfort zone move and became art. I posed in front of 25 art students without any bondage, without any material, just me. My face, my body it was written all over, I was no longer ok with living so ashamed, so scared, and so unforgiving towards my body. Everybody heals differently but the goal is always to heal. I sat there on a crème colored chaise and remembered feeling like Rose when she posed for Jack on the Titanic. My body became art. I became me. I was there naked and unafraid. I was tired of the boundaries. So very tired. The day I turned my body into art was the day I realized you are your thoughts. Your thoughts are your boundaries, push yourself and watch what you become. Stop limiting yourself. You are beautiful.

Leave me a comment