Ahoy Matey

It is still weird to just have one lonely breast inside my shirt. But, I am getting used to it. Now, when I am naked from the waist up and doing the kind of business-like things one tends to do when topless...trimming toe and fingernails, cleaning my ears, flossing my teeth...I sometimes catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. I still look damaged, injured. But, it's also clear that I am fully recovered and there's something about that that makes me feel strong and happy. I look like I've lived through things. I look interesting.

I look like a pirate. My missing body piece invites a tale to be told. Swordfights! Crocodiles! Aargh!


I look like an Amazon. Which, to me, means that what I do with my body is more important than how it looks. (Which, of course, is always true of everyone, regardless of whether or not they believe it.) And how it looks is ... like I can do things with it. Shoot an arrow. Out run a horse.


I can't really do either of these things. Fit and well running humans CAN out-run a horse, I've read. But it takes about 20 miles before the two-leggers pull ahead. The longest I've ever run is fifteen. What that means is, with practice, I could outrun a horse.


Also, with practice, I could use a bow and arrow. K already has some. She and our freind A. had them out for target practice last weekend, while I was in California. Maybe I'll choose a 20 mile race to train for this year. And, maybe, after I've run it, I'll add "excel at archery" to my list of things to do.

In the meantime, I'll just enjoy feeling like a pirate. In my head I'll keep designing clothes that flatter and exentuate my asymetry, rather than conceal it. I'll keep laughing outloud when I imagine the shirts and dresses with an eye patch pattern across the chest.



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