After my last post, I’ve been down. I heard the opening of the following on a podcast and spent a little time digging up the original post. This enlivened my day, my mood, and my life. I’ve been saying something like this in my head these past few months, but it’s wonderful to see it so concise and powerful.

This is an excerpt of the beginning of a post “The Seam of Skin and Scales” by Elena Rose (posting as Little Lake). I was pointed to this by the goddess writer Casey Plett. She was speaking with her fellow publisher/goddess/poet Cat Fitzpatrick on a LitHub podcast.

The seam of skin and scales

I am not a woman trapped in a man’s body. This body is no man’s; it is mine, it is me, and there is no man in that equation. And I am not trapped in it. There are a million and one ways out of this body, and I have clung to it, tooth and claw, despite an endless line of people and institutions who would rather I vacate the premises, and have sometimes been willing to make me bleed to convince me they’re right.

This body is mine, and I claim it and its bruises, and it is not a man’s, and I am not trapped here.

You can find the entire post online. I’ve saved a copy in case this site ever goes down.