One of my biggest struggles in this journey of recovery is practicing self-love. My psychologist was very clear on how it was a necessity, and it seems it is all I read about in others recovery stories – yet I have a hard time observing the practice myself. However, I will try and try again, and now I’ll be brave and write a post for the lovely me, myself and I!
I am not sure where my reluctance to be fond of myself stems from. Maybe it’s rooted in my childhood, from when I struggled to make friends and subsequently thought I wasn’t good enough. Maybe it’s from my teenage years, when I experienced first hand what it was for boys to not be interested beyond a physical interaction.
Maybe, probably, it’s from this last year, when the traumatic events which preceded my eating disorder, depression and anxiety made me feel like I wasn’t worth anything.
Either which way, the result has been this: I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and not liked the person I saw there. I didn’t think she was good enough, pretty enough, clever enough.
However, now I don’t want that to be the case anymore. I want to see myself as good, kind, smart, funny, creative, valid. I want these glimmers of myself that I have been seeing recently to shine through, strong and true – the version of myself which is worthy of self-respect.
And so here goes a bit of body positivity. Here I am, with all my extra kilos which each represent my recovery. Here I am at my natural weight, short and slightly chubby, and with hairy armpits for feminism.
I am good enough just as I am, and I don’t need a thigh gap to prove a thing.