1.0Soft Sensibilitieshttps://kimberlypearl.co/blogKimberlyhttps://kimberlypearl.co/blog/author/kimberlypearl-92gmail-com/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="nx61Vc2cQa"><a href="https://kimberlypearl.co/blog/gratitude/">Gratitude</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://kimberlypearl.co/blog/gratitude/embed/#?secret=nx61Vc2cQa" width="600" height="338" title="“Gratitude” — Soft Sensibilities" data-secret="nx61Vc2cQa" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://kimberlypearl.co/blog/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js /* ]]> */ </script> In the last two weeks I’ve felt more at ease with myself than I have in a long time—a byproduct of growing older and wiser, I assume. The baby fat that clings to my cheeks, skims my waist, and sits on my thighs has not yet disappeared, but I’m less preoccupied with the extra inches. They’ll shed soon, my mother tells me. Your body is plumping itself for carrying a baby. There will be no child in this womb, ever, but it’s reassuring to be reminded of how formidable the female body is. Thank you for just knowing—a gentle thought of gratitude, to myself. The shift, I think, came with small changes: making frequent trips into the city, where I always seem to feel alive; making plans to see my best friends (more sisters, really); spending an entire afternoon making new friends; eating more Chinese food; reading (I just finished The Argonauts and Speedboat). Finally getting a facial after two years. Re-arranging a few things around my house to make room for more books—mostly secondhand, because I love the smell of worn pages—and a dinky Christmas tree. Faux, of course, because the thought of cleanup or worse, bugs, gives me the heebie-jeebies. Eleven dollars can…http://kimberlypearl.co/blog/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/IMG_3524.jpg