I’ve shed some things, and not just a few layers of clothing:
I’ve shed the rejection I’ve experienced that dressed up as my identity.
I’ve shed the insults that have attached themselves to me and dressed up as my inner monologue.
I’ve shed the hurt that dressed up as anger and presented in yells and screams that were really cries for help.
I’ve shed the layers of faulty thinking, insecurities and insults that dressed up as my worldview.
I’ve shed the over-sized dresses I’ve often worn to cover up the figure I’m not sure I should embrace.
I’ve shed. And what I’m left with is the bare minimum. So, yeah, in 2020, I wore the crop top. And my spirit, like my abs, felt free.
P.S. What 2020 made you shed?