An honest moment.
It was 2008. I was running around the Back Cove trail, a 5k loop around the Back Cove in Portland, Maine. I was twenty-eight years old. What I remember is running along, feeling tired, and hungry, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter because the distance--I'd run two loops already, and the calories burned mattered more. I passed a woman jogging with a baby carriage. I looked at her, and then at the child, and my heart went soft. I remember thinking, I could not grow a baby inside of my body. I could not handle a body out of control.
When this morning, two weeks before my fortieth, I saw the blood between my legs, I felt grateful. I still have a healthy, functioning body. I am still fertile. I am not pregnant. Though I also felt remorse for how I've taken the potential of my body and its beauty, it's power, and it's silliness for granted.
For being too afraid to gain weight, to be out of control. I looked at myself in the mirror and said hello to the coward afraid of unfolding her fertility. And then I touched my stomach and said nothing. And then I went for a run.
Amsterdam. Jocelyn M. Ulevicus is a writer, wanderer, and dreamer. She wants to know, what are you afraid of?
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