ABOUT SHELOVES

SheLoves Magazine | 11/17/2019 | Sheli Massie
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I was born needing to be fixed. They didn’t have the fancy ultrasounds forty-some years ago, so I came out bloody and ready to breathe life into the world—except I could barely breathe. I was born disfigured; my lip was attached to the bottom of my nose and the roof of my mouth was exposed. I have only seen one or two baby pictures of me. No one wants pictures of a child they need to renovate.

She asked me if I saw her. If I have ever really seen her. Staring in the mirror. Tracing the scars with her fingertips over her lip. Over and over again. Trying to find the beginning and the end.

Grade - Parents - Catholic - High - School

In eighth grade my parents let me choose whether I wanted to continue at the Catholic High School or switch to the public school. I chose the public school after attending one of the epic dances that were held at the end of the year. I put on my two-piece wool dress I borrowed from my friend’s mom because I was bigger than those around me. It was pastel and looked fantastic with my baby blue rimmed glasses. I was a looker.

Did I mention it was May? May in Michigan can either be 22 °F (-5 °C) or 80°F (26 °C). That year it was 80. So I stood against the wall the entire evening with sweat running down my back into my mother’s pantyhose. It was the end of my career as a private school girl.

Dance - Move - Body - Curves - Space

She asked me if I ever danced with her. If I’ve ever really let her dance. Freely let her move. Her whole body. Her curves that take up space and create life. If I let her free.

The lawyer said later that they believed him. They believed him...
(Excerpt) Read more at: SheLoves Magazine
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