My Body Issues Are Being Locked In A Tiny Closet In My Brain (And They Are Not Welcome To Come Out)

I am officially deciding to accept my flaws. I’ve always had serious body-image issues and problems with my appearance, but you know what? I’m done. I don’t look perfect, I’ll never look perfect, and that’s okay.

What prompted this? I was thinking about my weight, and what’s a semi-reasonable weight loss goal. Before I had the smidge I weighed 113 lbs. To some that’s big to others it’s tiny; all I know is that that was as small as I could get, even when I was starving myself. I would skip as many consecutive meals as I could, until I was lightheaded and dizzy and could barely stand and Josh was yelling(not yelling but being worried and telling me) at me to eat food. I was a size five and I was incapable of getting any smaller, no matter how hard I tried.

So I was thinking back on that with my current 123 lb self and I realized something: Even if I could starve myself back to that weight I will never be any smaller than a size five, and it’s not because I’m fat, or not determined enough, It’s because I have some damn wide hips! It’s not my fat or lack of will power that prevents me from being smaller, It’s my freaking skeleton! I have spent so, so much time worrying and crying because I was so overweight (I mock my former skinny bitch self) and being afraid that Josh would get sick of being with a fat chick (he actually started dating me when I weighed roughly 135… He says he loved my ass back then.) And I realized that that’s kindof insane.

My body isn’t perfect, I have:

A fat baby face that leaves me with a perpetual double-chin in photos

Stretchmarks that are no longer terrifyingly purple but still very visible

Boobs that are more befitting of a forty year old than an eighteen year old (fuck breastfeeding, it’s not that much healthier it made me depressed and gave me old lady boobs, stick to formula.)

And a tummy pouch that I may never completely obliterate.

But I also have:

Nearly flawless porcelain skin (if I gave up coke(the soda people!) I could clear the last of my blemishes but it’s a beloved weakness of mine)

An hourglass shape

Double D’s that look pretty good in a bra (helps the old lady sag)

The biggest bounciest ass you can find on a skinny white girl (I’ve been repeatedly advised to try some of the black-girl brands (Is that racist? Probably but everybody knows that black chicks have the best booties so you can’t be too offended right???????))

And because of my smaller-size-prohibiting hips I have a huge thigh gap. It doesn’t matter if I’m not starving myself because the way I’m built makes my legs naturally sit a bit apart.

So I’ve decided that while I’m going to try to shed a few more pounds and get back under 120, I’m not going to freak out and have epic melt-downs because of my waist-size any more. I only get one life. I only get one chance to be young. So I’m sure as hell not going to waste it sobbing because I’ll never ever be a size two like my anorexic twat sister (besides unlike her I’m curvy). I’m going to remember that it’s honestly unhealthy for me to go back to what I used to weigh, and it’s even more unhealthy to worry and obsess about it the way that I have since I was fifteen.

You see so many women in their thirties and forties finally accepting, or still struggling, with self-image issues and sorry, but I refuse to be one of them. I will force myself to eat. In healthy amounts. I will eventually learn to fucking excessive instead of skipping meals. But I will not worry about it anymore. I will drink my soda and eat my ice cream and instead of feeling guilty I will remember that I’m not overweight until my doctor tells me so.

…….But I’m going to get a booby lift once I’m done spawning pint-sized dictators…… because I want to enjoy my figure as much as I can and that’s something diet and exercise just can’t fix.

Take all of this however the fuck you want. I don’t have a moral or a point (besides maybe not blaming your fat for what your skeleton does to your pant size), I’m just happy because I’m not wasting time and making myself miserable anymore.

5 thoughts on “My Body Issues Are Being Locked In A Tiny Closet In My Brain (And They Are Not Welcome To Come Out)”

  1. High five, fellow soda-person! 😀
    That last para sums up everything. Who cares what others think, just love what you are. It’s great to see that you have accepted it and for now have decided to move on with it.
    Also, double chins are rather cute! Refer to Benedict Cumberbatch for further reference. Hehehe


  2. I love this. I have spent plenty of years worrying over being skinny and trying to fit into a size 2 like all my friends. Then one day I realized those size 2 friends don’t have double D’s, curves, and butt like I do. I work out religiously, but I eat like an unsupervised child, so I’ve just learned to accept that I will always be the curvier one in most pictures. I encourage you to keep being confident and LOVE your body!!


    1. Haha thanks! I have a curvy shape too but I’m kindof the opposite; I never work out but I don’t eat a whole lot so I just sortof hover at my current weight. But I’m just so tired of sweating it!


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