In the past, I've expressed quite a few insecurities about myself. I've gone through a lot, including an eating disorder, depression and self harm, and a multitude of gynecological health problems that have fucked with my body and through that, my mind.
I'm still going through these things. There are days when I want to purge and cut. There are days when I do these things. I've heard eating disorders and self-harm described as addictions. They say you never really get over an addiction: you're always a "recovering addict." In that way, I will always be recovering from my addictions.
However, I've learned to cope with these problems. I have struggled, and I have won. I woke up this morning and stepped on the scale. It hadn't budged since last week, so I got back in bed and moped. About fifteen minutes later, I was up and at 'em, reminding myself that lifting weights four times a week and running between five and six times a week builds muscle.
More importantly, I reminded myself that I look fucking great. I'm not small and thin. I never will be small and thin. I'm nearly six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a stocky build reminiscent of a viking. But I look fucking great. I'm strong, healthy, with an awesome waist to hip ratio. I have cellulite, but my boyfriend doesn't even know what that is. When I tried to explain it to him, he said, "There's nothing wrong with your skin. I think cellulite is a made up condition." I don't really care how my body compares with those of other women. My body is mine, and I love it, despite the scars I've given it over the years, the stretchmarks that appeared during the growth spurt that was essentially my entire childhood, and the occasional freckle or pimple that will appear.
This type of thing is usually written by somebody twice my age. They don't come to this realization 'til their mid thirties. My mom still hasn't figured it out, and she's turning fifty-two this year. Why does it take so long for people to appreciate themselves? I can honestly say I've never met an ugly person. There are a few people I don't like for their personality, but everyone has something about them that makes them beautiful - physically. Why do we notice these gems in others, but focus on our own imperfections?
I started writing this as a declaration of pride. I am so happy that, at the age of seventeen, I'm able to honestly say I feel good about myself. I've learned how to overcome self doubt -self hatred - and I know that my life will be so much easier to deal with because of my inner peace. But the more I write, the more I realize that I'm incredibly lucky. I hope that in the future, my kids won't have so much pressure put on them to look a certain way. I dream of a future where everyone is appreciated for both their physical beauty, and their mental strengths that make each of us a unique and valuable individual.
Reading: fitandfeminist.wordpress.com - very inspiring!!!