Change

Like the loose little coins that jingle around in my pocket.

Thoughts tumble around inside my head.

I am not the person I was a year ago.

I am not the person I was even a month ago.

I have changed.

A lot.

And I’m terrified.

 

The new medication runs through my veins.

Already, I feel it's effects.

I am reminded daily that it changing me.

It's new and it's different and even though I wanted this,

It's uncharted territory.

There’s very little information out there for me.

Who do i ask? A doctor? They’re often more uneducated than I.

I turn to the internet and obsess over videos of people describing their transformation.

But everyone is different.

I do not know how my body will change.

 

My heart is healing.

The scars almost healed over.

I no longer cry for hours on end thinking of them.

Their scent has long been washed from my hoodie.

Instead of being overcome with memories at the mere sight of it,

I barely take notice as I sift through my closet.

I do not search their name on twitter anymore.

Even in the moments I remember them, I hope they have moved on like I have.

But the scars have left me scared to try again.

 

A challenge tacked up on my wall.

A check mark next to each of the 30 days.

Surrounding it are photos and lists and inspirational quotes.

All of this evidence to an emotional journey I went through to better myself.

My goals are written out in 18 point serif font.

I know that I am on my way to completing them.

I made a list of the ways I have changed since I started the challenge.

And I have to remind myself that this is a positive change.

But still, it makes me anxious.

 

Maybe one day I won’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore.

 

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