I am not healthy. Not yet. I don’t eat properly – I’m sure if a nutritionist saw what I eat every day, they’d wrinkle their nose and look disappointed in me. I don’t do nearly enough exercise: I walk the dogs every other day and that’s it.
I decide to improve my diet, and within a few hours I get a craving for chips or chocolate raisins and before I know it, I’ve got my hand in a packet while swallowing the next load of unnecessary calories. I decide I’m going to do exercise but I don’t really have time because every spare moment I spend sleeping (the exact opposite of exercising)…
But despite this, I’m trying not to hate my body. Why? Because it doesn’t get me anywhere. It’s hard, and some days I feel myself despising my thighs, or my belly, or my arms. But before my depression, I’d been hating myself vehemently and it actually made me worse because I’d drown my body sorrows in chocolate (haha, yes I know, it’s ridiculous).
I actually lost a ton of weight last year, but it didn’t make me happy and I didn’t lose it on purpose. It just happened because I had depression and I didn’t have the energy or will to feed myself. I’d only really have one meal a day, and so I dropped about 2 dress sizes. Some people commented on how well I looked because I’d lost weight. *INSERT KLAXON NOISE HERE* I was not healthy. I was not well. Starving yourself, whether it’s on purpose or not, is never good and needs to be fixed. Losing weight quickly is not healthy, it’s worrying. So part of me is not too upset that I’ve gained a few pounds, because it’s come hand in hand with my depression improving. Like, I actually eat now. Three meals a day, go meeeee!
One of my features that has also plagued me as long as I can remember has been my nose. I’ve always thought that it was huge, took over my face, and gave me an awful side profile. But last year, my grandad passed away, and since I inherited my nose from him, I’ve actually come to love it as well. I have his nose, so how could I hate it, when I love and miss him so much? And also, it’s sort of on my face already so I can’t really change it.
So I’m going to try to focus on the positives. For example, I love the way my skin tingles when my partner touches me; I love how easily my face smiles when I’m around people I love; I love how I can go for months now without dislocating (I have hypermobility syndrome, something I’m sure I’ll talk about properly at some point). My body does it’s job, and I love it because of that.
In the last couple of years, I’ve tried to kind of reclaim my body. When I was with my ex-boyfriend, I started to cover up more, because I felt that he would prefer me that way and sometimes he seemed disappointed in how I dressed. Since then, I’ve decided to fuck that and I now dress how I used to – embracing my curvy figure and showing off my boobs. Because boobs are great. And hips are great. Although you know, it’s winter now so my style is more dictated to by how many layers I can physically get on… Hence why all my recent photos tend to feature me in a coat!
Some of my friends are especially self conscious of their body, which I find hard to understand because I think they are genuinely gorgeous. Stretch-marks seem to be a big cause for concern. These have not ever particularly bothered me, despite having a fair few of them, especially on my hips, because I think they look really cool, like tiger stripes. Or I think they’re a really good little path for a lover’s fingers to trail down over your skin. I just think they are really beautiful and sensual.
I think that whether you are curvy or not, it doesn’t affect your attractiveness. It’s all about how you embrace it. When I felt awkward and weird wearing low cut tops, I *looked* awkward and weird. Now I try to just own my body and confidently wear clothes, and I like to think I look slightly more attractive (ha). It’s all about confidence (or you know, fake confidence, or just not caring what other’s think).
Everyday, we are subconsciously given the same ideals to supposedly aspire to. Magazines are spouting crap about the new fad diets, the fastest way to lose weight and judging people on their style. Well, I think that’s bollocks. It’s hard because we’ve all been ingrained with: fat is bad and skinny is bad, but you’ve got to look like a model and be as curvy as Betty Boop?! Well, only 0.0003% of the population is born like that (okay, I made up this number but I think it’s still probably too high) and it’s pretty impossible for the rest of us (plus I’m sure that if Betty Boop was real, even she would have stretch marks). But so what? We’re all beautiful in our own weird and wonderful ways. And trust me, the things that we hate about our bodies are loved or envied by others. Like, for reasons that part of me shall never fathom, my boyfriend actually loves stroking my belly. My little podgy belly.
I’m hoping that as time goes on, I’ll improve my health even more with my diet and exercising.But I’m going to take alllll the time I want and do it to be healthy – not to lose weight. Because I can. But in the meantime, I’m just going to try my best. And as my mother says, you can’t do better than your best.