itsShar.com

Let’s talk about why my shoulders refuse to mind their business. They stay raised like they’re waiting for gossip. They sit in my ears like they paid rent. I walk around looking like I’m bracing for impact from what? Life? Bills? Men? Probably all three.

I swear my natural posture is “tense flamingo who didn’t get enough sleep. “I’ll be standing in the kitchen like I’m trying to protect my neck from the wind. My body looks like I owe somebody money.

People say “Relax your shoulders, “and I’m like,

“Baby… they haven’t relaxed since 2006.”

I’m a Pisces. A water sign. I’m supposed to be soft and magical, floating through life like a Disney princess with an attitude. But instead I’m out here moving like a malfunctioning mermaid who keeps forgetting she’s supposed to be graceful.

My perfumes look at me from the shelf like,”Woman… when is the last time you even LEFT this house? You bought us to seduce the world, not to gaslight your bedroom walls.”

My bags be staring at me like, “Shar… open a door,Let us live. “We’re luxury items, not decoration.”

And don’t even get me started on my shoes. Those poor babies are collecting dust like I retired from society. Every time I walk by them, I hear a faint whisper:”Use me… before I go out of style…”

I WANT to go outside.

I want to live.

I want to be cute in public.

I want to walk like my knees don’t crack.

But my hormones?

My hormones said, “No. You will sit down. You will overthink. You will scroll. And you will STAY inside until your bones soften.”

They don’t want peace for me.

They don’t want outside for me.

They don’t want joy for me.

My hormones want me in bed with my shoulders touching my ears like wifi antennas.

Sometimes I wish someone would just grab me by the neck and massage me back into my body.

Like, “Sweetie, you are clenching for no reason. Release yourself.”

But instead I’m out here doing DIY stretches that look like I’m summoning a chiropractor in the spiritual realm.

And yet…

I know one day I’ll rise again.

My shoes will see daylight.

My perfumes will be used for their true purpose.

My shoulders will lower.

My spine will remember she has rights.

Until then?

It’s me, my stressed shoulders, my dusty shoes, my judgmental perfumes, and my hormones acting like jealous best friends who don’t want me outside.

Love Shar