As you guys may have seen, I go through waves of loving and loathing my body. There are times when it’s my best friend and I feel so at peace in my own skin, and there are days when I feel utterly ill at ease with how I look, and I compare myself to others and feel like I have failed.
Recently I have been leaning towards the latter as I prepare for an upcoming holiday with 3 friends who are way way slimmer than me. Isn’t it funny that that’s how I think of them first and foremost? By the amount of space that their bodies take up. But I just cannot shake the fear that they will all be repulsed by my fat rolls and cellulite and sheer volume of me. That they will feel overjoyed at the fact that I am ‘the fat friend’ who will make them look better. None of them have ever judged me for how I look, or made me feel like my body is bad or wrong, but my mind cannot rationalise right now. I worry that people will see us and judge me as being the lazy one who let herself go. They will pity me, their eyes will be drawn to me. And everything I have told myself – about how I am more than my body, and my body is more than it’s size… it just feels like a lie. Because there is so much importance placed on this idea that our bodies need to be slim in order for us to feel valid and beautiful and worthy of a beach holiday. And I am struggling.
I have already had countless amazing messages from you lovely lot telling me not to worry and that I look fine etc, and it does fill my heart with happiness. But it needs to come from me. I need to flick that switch. I need to remind myself that it is ok to have a body like mine. I am allowed to feel this way, but I also deserve to have a joyful holiday in my swimwear and I don’t need to worry. My body is a product of the food I have enjoyed and the life I have lived, and it deserves respect and a positive mental attitude.

So what am I going to do to try to snap myself out of this funk? Well, several things!
I am going to pack some beautiful bikinis and cover ups and dresses and look absolutely glorious on that beach.
I am going to wake up every day and remind myself that I am funny, smart and compassionate.
I am going to exercise – not to punish my body, but more to remind myself of my strength and get me some of those sweet endorphins.
I am going to look at my body in the mirror and take photos and videos and really make peace with it.
I am going to eat well and fill my body with yummy food as well as nourishing food.
I am probably still going to pick at myself and compare myself to the other 3 girls. I am probably going to worry about having photos with them and having them put suncream on me. But my body doesn’t make me any less worthy of respect.

I cannot expect a miracle. I cannot expect these things to work and make me feel amazing. I know that I will probably still lie on that beach and berate myself – but I also know that there aren’t enough beach holidays left for me to not enjoy this one. And that me beating myself up about not being a size 10 will change nothing during that week. I will still be fat. I will still have bingo wings. So I can either cry about it or I can move on with my life and keep reminding myself that I am a product of my choices, and I am a fucking great person.

It is ok to be fat. It is ok to call myself fat. It is not ok to let it stop me living my best life.


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