I think when you’re surrounded by things telling you to: eat
right, workout daily, to get the best possible career to have so much money,
but also to socialise and go out drinking, to not obsess over food intake and
‘try this 241 pizza deal’ but also look like the sort of person who’s never so
much as looked at carbs, wear the right clothes to be on trend but also that
suit your body type; incidentally the two things never seem to match, to wear
make-up but also look natural and not like you’re ‘trying too hard,’ to sleep 8
hours a night but also work 9 hours a day and go to the gym and make time for
friends and spend time with family, and keeping up to date with television shows and films and books and
social media, you get exhausted. It’s impossible to be or do all these things
at once. You go from an advert about cake, to an advert about weight watchers.
Everything contradicts itself, everything in our lives is screaming about how inadequate
we are, how unworthy and ugly we are. How disgusting we are compared to these
photoshopped, airbrushed models with all sorts of plastic surgery that are
forcing us to desire a completely unobtainable body shape.
It starts as
children with perfect Barbie and her completely unobtainable figure. Disney
princesses with absolutely no waists. Make-up sets for dolls and for little
girls to practice looking ‘picture perfect.’ Teen magazines having you rate
yourself and belittling your already shrinking self-confidence when once again,
you don’t ‘fit in.’ But where is, ‘in?’ So far I’ve not come across one single
person in real life who can do it all. Something has to give; be it confidence,
self-worth, or worst of all, our psyche.
I used to be slim, toned, reasonably attractive. Was I
happy? I appeared to be; I had the car, the job, the boyfriend, the friends,
the social life. But one day everything fell apart because although I had all
these things society tells you that you need to be complete; it was an empty
illusion. I had a yet-undiagnosed mental health disorder, and I was forcing
myself to ‘fit in.’ I struggled so hard to understand what was wrong with me,
why should I be depressed? What was I missing? The more I searched, the more I
lost, the more I realised that none of that was the issue; it was deeper than
that. I felt just as lost and lonely with nothing than I did with everything.
Now, years later I am clinically obese. I’m living at home
with my parents nearing closer and closer to 30 and nothing of note to claim to
my name. I don’t have a car, I don’t have a boyfriend, I have far less friends.
But I’m starting to understand that happiness doesn’t come from your
occupation, or material things. I am looking to publish my first ever poetry
book, I’m working on a novel, I’m a mental health campaigner. I’m the exact
same girl I was ten years ago, but I’ve learned so much about her in the last
couple of years. I’ve learned why I feel so lost, so out of control. I’ve
learned why I don’t quite ‘tick’ the way others do, or why I find certain
things hard to understand or let go of; not only do I have an illness, I’ve
experienced things nobody should have to. I’m coming to terms with my past, and
the role it has in my present. I’m starting to recognise the girl I see in the
mirror.
Society still goes out of it’s way to shame me for my
weight, for my unemployment, for living with my parents, for having an
invisible illness, and being a ‘bus w*nker;’ and unfortunately there are days
where I believe and buy into the lies they sell about how I’m worthless and
unworthy of respect and care. These are the days I forget to love myself. I
forget to look at my scars not as imperfections but as reminders of the battles
I thought I couldn’t win but did. I forget to remind myself that every day I’m
alive is a medal-winning victory. I forget to say ‘okay, so you’re a fatty.
Scales don’t lie. But you’ve also got a beautiful soul and so much to offer the
world.’ I forget to tell myself that I’m proud for never giving in, for still
having kindness to offer a world that hasn’t always been kind to me. For
trusting deeply despite my trust being damaged beyond words so many times
before. For loving with every inch of my heart even those who may not always
deserve it.
Maybe I don’t always treat myself with the same level of
love I give so freely to others, but it’s something I’m working on. It’s
something I’m determined to work on every single day of my life, because, and
say it with me now;
‘EVERY SINGLE PERSON DESERVES TO BE LOVED.’
And where better to start than with yourself?
😊
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