I used to search “thinspo” pics on Pinterest.
I used to skim the pages looking for that ONE quote that just GOT me.
Maybe it would be the kick in the gut that I needed to keep pushing myself in the gym… or maybe it was a sarcastic comment about “excuses” and weakness in the kitchen to keep that extra bite of food off my plate…
I’d scroll for lengthy periods at a time, mostly at night before bed, when my stomach growled from eating so little or my heart hurt from a number on the scale that revealed I weighed “too much.”
I’d pin and pin, saving images on my phone, stocking up inspiration for my moments of weakness & nearly caving.
___
I just wanted to look like them.
I just wanted to feel like they did.
I just wanted to be them.
So I kept scrolling &
I kept going.
Stuck in the same cycle,
terrified of ever stopping,
terrified of ever looking
the way I did,
the way I had,
and the way I thought I would
if I stopped.
I kept going and going, pushing & pushing,
until one day…
I couldn’t anymore.
__
What I thought I was looking for was encouragement to keep going,
when all along what I needed more than anything was
someone to give me permission to STOP.
A whisper to say it was all going to be OKAY.
A whisper to tell me I was already ENOUGH.
A whisper to tell me there was MORE to life than this.
More than yo-yo dieting.
More than punishing myself in the gym.
More than the never-ending cycle of defeat, disappointment and desperation.
___
Ya know,
these days I look back on old pictures of myself.
Behind my thinnest frames lie more weight than I’ve ever carried.
In my smallest sizes,
I wasn’t good enough.
I wasn’t skinny enough.
I wasn’t pretty enough.
And today, after years of telling myself lies of self-hate and diet-culture, I still have moments of doubt and insecurity. I taught & gave myself every tip and tool in the rulebook to keep my feet on the treadmill and my hand out of the bag of chips. I learned a lifetime worth of lies in a matter of a few years. I am unlearning these false “truths” on the daily. I am battling against every false prophet or scam I ever believed. I am tired,
But I keep fighting.
I keep fighting to see worth outside of a number on a scale,
To see freedom when I open the fridge.
I keep fighting to see beauty when I look at my curves & “imperfections,”
To see a worth that lies way deeper than them.
My body is growing, changing,
challenging & protecting me.
It’s climbed mountains, crossed borders
& chased sunsets at the sea.
It’s had moments of brokenness,
It’s shared times of doubt,
But my strength will always be greater
than dumbbells and workouts.
I can be beautiful.
I am, in fact.
But my beauty isn’t tied to size or
a date of completing a task.
It’s sewn in, like the scars on my skin,
strung deep into my bones.
Small yet purposeful, a
a string of faith I’d never known.
I have learned peace,
and found lightness
on my heaviest of days.
Drawn hope despite the chaos
of my darkest displays.
Life saved me from a past
held bondage by fear.
A future made bright
now that my "thinspo" browser is clear.
Wearing Aerie Oversize Nomad Pants: Found here!
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