This girl forced herself to vomit if she ate too much.
This girl dieted rigidly, but sometimes the hunger pangs became so severe she found herself binge eating…and throwing it all up.
This girl felt ashamed and often cried while staring in the mirror.
This girl felt like a fraud.
This girl had admirers asking her for weight loss help and fitness advice, but while she had a fit body, she knew she wasn’t healthy.
This girl lost 120 pounds naturally and felt like a monster naked.
This girl worried that nobody would love her because she was broken.
This girl knew the hatred she felt towards the loose skin around her breasts, on her stomach and inner thighs was not healthy.
This girl would cry as she added up the amount of money she would need to spend on plastic surgery to “fix” her body.
This girl’s life revolved around her diet and exercise regimen.
This girl carried tupperware with chicken breast and egg whites to the movies, and drank a lot of coffee to suppress her appetite.
This girl could see the outline of her abs behind a layer of loose skin, yet felt no sense of pride, only shame.
This girl could do 5 sets of 40 push-ups and still hated her arms.
This girl converted her living room into a fitness room so she would never miss a workout; she never had friends over.
This girl was preoccupied with her appearance every waking moment.
This girl didn’t like being this small, but she thought the further she was from who she was at her biggest, the safer she was.
This girl felt like a slave; enslaved to the fear of getting fat again.
One day, this girl whispered to me that she was tired.
I told her to rest.
She wouldn’t rest.
So I gave her injury after injury.
I forced her to sit down.
I forced her to revisit her relationship with food.
I forced her to cultivate love, compassion and forgiveness towards herself.
When her body began to heal, she would slowly slip into old patterns, so I gave her another injury.
This girl sat down (she had no choice).
She learned to sit in silence.
In the silence, she heard her body asking for healing, but not healing from obesity…healing from TRAUMA.
Healing from sexual abuse.
Healing from physical abuse.
Pain stored in her body…wounds the fat hid and kept safe.
This girl sat down.
She wrote affirmations while sobbing, tears smearing the ink on the page.
This girl learned to eat food normally again.
This girl learned it’s okay to like cake.
This girl learned to kiss and caress the parts of her body she shamed the most.
This girl started a body-positive fitness movement that has evolved into something much more than she can verbalize.
This girl is inspiring others to heal through her healing.
This girl is me..
I weigh 30 pounds more than I did in this picture (taken 5 years ago).
I have bat wings. LOL
And back rolls.
And armpit fat.
And I’m beautiful.
And I love having a big booty and full boobs!
And I still have a small waist.
And I work out consistently.
And I’m learning to establish a balanced eating plan that doesn’t alienate me from friends and family or drive me insane.
And I want to lose 15 pounds because I like myself somewhere between thick and fit.
And I laugh more than I ever did before.
And I grin from ear to ear about little things, like the sun peaking through the window.
And I no longer spend days in bed riddled with anxiety and suffering from depression.
And I cry and laugh at the same time and honor all of it.
And I have so many friends now, whereas before I thought nobody liked me.
And I sing while mopping the floors.
And my running pace is kinda slow but I love my running plan.
And I still can’t do a push-up yet but I will again some day soon.
And I have sex completely naked and feel no need to cover any part of my body like I used to.
And I can keep going, but the story is still unfolding…
I just know I’m happier in this body, happier with MYSELF, than I’ve ever been.
I love you.