Since I was 12 years old I’ve hated my body. Much like every other person.
I’m too fat – my love handles are too big, my hair is too fragile, my legs are too short. The only thing I’ve liked is my boobs. Well, at least since the age of 18.
I remember in sixth grade when my mum and I had a meeting with my teacher and I said that I was feeling left out by the other girls and she asked me why. My answer was “I am too fat”. WTF?!
I don’t even know if I believed it or not, but back then – I knew that if I was fat, there was a reason for me to be left out. Because I didn’t look like everyone else. And that was easier to face than the fact that I was weird. (Which I’m totally okay with now by the way). But where did I get this from? First of all, that I was overweight? And second of all, that there was something wrong with being overweight? Like that was an okay reason for being left out?
I study nutrition, and even if I’ve been taught the information to why the body needs the food we eat – all this information blows out the window that one second my brain starts to go on and on about how “I am too fat.”
But now I say I’ve had enough!
My body is a freaking powerful machine. I got hit by a car in 40km/h and here I am! I’m like freaking wonder woman or something. I’m not saying that I’m immortal. But why do I put all my energy into feeding my body with negative thoughts about how it looks instead of loving it?
My body is awesome.
It’s been there for me through my 27 years here on earth. It walks, swims, breathes, smiles, cries, and beats, “plays the guitar” (at least that’s my intention), lifts, kicks, dance.
When did I start let my looks define who I am?
From now on I’m treating You with love, kindness, respect and gratitude. Everything that You deserve. Everything that I deserve.
I am a soul, I have a body. But the body is one of our biggest supporters through life. So I will support You.