I Am Too Aware Of My Own Body.

I came to the realization, a few days ago, that I am too aware of my body. I notice it more than most people do, especially my arms. I notice them all the time, they're like parasites slowly eating at me, attached, in an amateur fashion, to the rest of my body, and they always feel like they aren't mine. They feel borrowed, I never know what to do with them, they feel too long for my short body, too thin for my slightly curvy body, too foreign to fit in with the rest of me. I always let them fall awkwardly to the sides of the body they seem not to be a part of. I cover up the rest of my body though, as if I am hiding some monstrosity, I pretend that covering it up, not seeing it, refusing to acknowledge it in the mirror, will somehow disconnect me from it so much that it won't haunt me anymore, or that it will disappear all on its own. It has always felt foreign, every part, as if it was made up of the worst parts and pieces of other people's bodies in some lab in the middle of nowhere. My body constantly feels like it's out to get me, the more I ignore it, the more it haunts me, forces me to be aware of it, the more I hide it, the more it wants to be seen, the more I pretend it doesn't exist, the more I ruminate on its existence. 

(I doubt anyone will read this, but if you are reading this, remember that our bodies were meant to host our souls, not to look pretty for a society whose beauty standards are constantly changing, you don't need to look like a supermodel to be 'pretty' and you are probably more attractive than you think you are. I hope you grow to love yourself as the world loves you, xo.)