jumbled and out of context

I am still trying to forgive myself for this:

Emotionally I am a big spoon, in most of the ways you'd imagine. I listen. I'd hold. But every event from conception to the year I quit soccer has graced me with narrow shoulders and bad circulation against my will, and generally my-arm-around is almost painful.

I'm a collection of recessive traits and weird genes from two families of tall, curvy, strong women (among other things) and sometimes I feel especially out of place in this body. I somehow never learned the language of comforting words or when to hug, maybe because I wasn't listening and maybe because people don't teach you these things when you cried easily and when nature didn't give you childbearin' hips.

I'm not sure why I'm thinking of this tonight. Also, it's hard to be not so good at the things you sometimes want to do.