Jesus Would Have Let Me Cry on His Shoulder

The first story I’ve published online in a long, long time, and it was recently selected by the WordPress team as a Discover piece. A creative non-fiction story about my teenage years, my bulimia, my unpleasant encounter with Pentecostal religion, and finding spirituality in the most surprising of ways.

Open Thought Vortex

By Juliana Marcelle Crespo

Gloria tried to convince me that Jesus lay dormant in the fibrous sinews holding my muscles and joints in place.

She’d come up to me to tell me this while I was doing arm curls at her husband’s gym.I set down the barbells and turned towards her so I could give her my full attention.

Jesus, Gloria said, was waiting for me to learn the language of the Bible.He wanted for the holy energy in my limbs to awaken.He makes you what you are, she told me, her voice as sweet as an untarnished apple.Her breath smelled like mint mouthwash.Her nails were painted red, and her hair reached all the way down her back.

I nodded and picked up the barbell.I did an arm curl.Then another.I wanted to feel something like that.I wanted to feel, period.

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