My Own Skin

MY OWN SKIN
I moved into my own skin today;
my own rebirth.
24 hours after what would have been
my Father’s birthday.

Looking in the mirror I realize
I have to embrace what I see.
Thinking of people who are
“comfortable in their skin”
I decide--today is the day!

I am moving into my own skin.

I’ve done this once before,
In 2002 after they amputated my breasts,
in trying to save my life.
It took me five years
and a thousand rounds of chemo
to get comfortable in that skin.

Today I am certain the move will be shorter.
I don’t have five years to waste.
And I am so ready to live in my own skin.

I think by the time the sun sets,
I will be moved in and fully unpacked.

Yesterday was my father’s birthday.
He’s been gone since 2004.
But I’ve kept his voice alive;
especially the critical parent.
The “go brush your hair
and put on some lipstick” voice.

Lipstick will not help, Dad,
I said in 1994
on the way home
from burying my mother.

For this past year,
I have not been living in my skin.
I’ve been waiting for Covid to end
So I can get back to my old skin.

But you can’t get anything in the past back.
You can only take what you have and move forward.

And you know what?
My skin feels fine.
It’s actually quite comfortable.

I don’t mind the gray hair…this is my look now.
I don’t mind the eyeglasses…this is my look now.
I don’t mind the extra pounds…this is my look now.

The curves. The soft, the rough.
The wrinkles and stretch marks.
The cracks.
The asymmetricals.
The age spots and dots.

I’ve moved into it all.
Head to toe
Inside and out,

Every place has been kissed or caressed
by someone
at some time
but lately,
not by me.

I moved in to my own skin today.
I inspected it and decided
Today’s the day.
It’s time to get comfortable.

All the life I’ve lived. All the sights I’ve seen.
All the wisdom And all the wisecracks.
What better company?

My skin feels so good.
Like rich silk.
63 year’s worth of texture.
I am all moved in and I’m here to stay.

Flori Hendron
3/26/21