Hello lovlies, hope everyone’s well!
On Sunday I drove down to my grandmother’s house to stay for a few days, and I’ve since been enjoying a cosy and foodie few days in her company. My cousin is also here, we grew up together and have always been close, so it is really nice to see her.
My mood is pretty good these days, it’s as if it’s becoming more and more pleasant inside my head. I’m enjoying my thoughts more, they’re changing, becoming more engaged, more positive, more forgiving. It feels like my head is a happier space now, friendlier and less judgemental.
I don’t talk much about my experience with an eating disorder, but I will a little now. My grandmother has a scale in her house, and until now I hadn’t been on one for a few months, but now I have been again, and I’ve gained quite a lot of weight, I’m almost back to what I weighed before I started losing. At first I was really shocked and upset by it, and at meals I didn’t eat until I was full. But, with my less judgemental and friendlier mind, I tried really hard to accept the fact that in order to be happy I need to weigh a little more than I would like, and that’s okay.
I can’t do the things I’m passionate about if I’m constantly hungry, I can’t focus on what I really want to do if I’m obsessing over calories, I can’t be happy and content in my body if I’m always critical and negative towards my reflection, and I can’t live a good and fulfilling life if I base my worth on the number on the scale.
So I’m proud of myself. Six months ago I wouldn’t have reached this conclusion, and I wouldn’t have spent last night eating crisps and chocolate with my cousin, enjoying her company rather than being distracted by something which really doesn’t matter.