Things I Never Say Aloud
For so long now I have preached about self love. About how there's only one you so you best be sure to love him or her and accept all those flaws you hate. But the truth is, almost everyday I hit a moment where I don't love me much either. I could be yelling at my family for unresolved conflict or sighing in the dressing room when something cute doesn't fit- the point is, it happens and today is no exception.
I used to say my body was a temple until that temple came crumbling down. Over the past year my body has put me through the ringer. Pain and sickness have led to depression and anger. When I stepped on the scale this morning and saw the largest number I've ever been I was in shock. Even though this is a post about things I won't say aloud, I can't tell you my weight because I'm afraid I'll say it and have to accept that it's true. So, today I hate my body. I look in the mirror at my big thighs and my fat ass and my stomach that's not-so-flat-anymore and I grimace. Society has a clutch on self image and I don't know that any amount of these body positivity campaigns are ever going to fix that. It's not about being stick thin or wearing a particular size; it's being something that you are not.
When I first left the Navy I became a gym rat. The gym was my best friend, my date night, my girls trip when I had no one else. I kept in contact with very few people from my hometown and most had kids or moved away. The gym was all I could turn to and it became my drug to cure loneliness.
I got swole. (Oh God, stop me now.)
My arms were so big they could lift tree stumps with ease (I'm not exaggerating either). Then everything changed. Gradually, I met people. I started being social, found a niche of things I liked to do besides workout and school kept me chained to the computer as a full time student. Slowly but sure my relationship with the gym faded until all I was left with were pictures of a thinner, fitter, less happier version of me to compare myself to today. So, I compare. I take note of every deflated muscle and wrinkle of skin until I convince myself that the obsessive, lonely girl was better simply because she looked that way.
This is not okay.
I could end this post with some emancipation proclamation about how I've decided I always and forever will love myself as is, but that would be false advertising. You don't love yourself everyday? Welcome to reality kid. Imagine how narcissistic and up in air we all would be if we did. Imagine the lost art and music that comes from those insecurities that would never come to life. Imagine that no one could ever experience that "ah-ha! I'm proud of me!" moment that comes from accepting the things you cannot change and changing the things you can. I'm on my way and so are you.
If today is not the day: we try again tomorrow and breathe in to breathe out all the things we never say aloud.
-A.
I used to say my body was a temple until that temple came crumbling down. Over the past year my body has put me through the ringer. Pain and sickness have led to depression and anger. When I stepped on the scale this morning and saw the largest number I've ever been I was in shock. Even though this is a post about things I won't say aloud, I can't tell you my weight because I'm afraid I'll say it and have to accept that it's true. So, today I hate my body. I look in the mirror at my big thighs and my fat ass and my stomach that's not-so-flat-anymore and I grimace. Society has a clutch on self image and I don't know that any amount of these body positivity campaigns are ever going to fix that. It's not about being stick thin or wearing a particular size; it's being something that you are not.
When I first left the Navy I became a gym rat. The gym was my best friend, my date night, my girls trip when I had no one else. I kept in contact with very few people from my hometown and most had kids or moved away. The gym was all I could turn to and it became my drug to cure loneliness.
I got swole. (Oh God, stop me now.)
My arms were so big they could lift tree stumps with ease (I'm not exaggerating either). Then everything changed. Gradually, I met people. I started being social, found a niche of things I liked to do besides workout and school kept me chained to the computer as a full time student. Slowly but sure my relationship with the gym faded until all I was left with were pictures of a thinner, fitter, less happier version of me to compare myself to today. So, I compare. I take note of every deflated muscle and wrinkle of skin until I convince myself that the obsessive, lonely girl was better simply because she looked that way.
This is not okay.
I could end this post with some emancipation proclamation about how I've decided I always and forever will love myself as is, but that would be false advertising. You don't love yourself everyday? Welcome to reality kid. Imagine how narcissistic and up in air we all would be if we did. Imagine the lost art and music that comes from those insecurities that would never come to life. Imagine that no one could ever experience that "ah-ha! I'm proud of me!" moment that comes from accepting the things you cannot change and changing the things you can. I'm on my way and so are you.
If today is not the day: we try again tomorrow and breathe in to breathe out all the things we never say aloud.
-A.
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