Hey girl. You, reading this. Hey! Stop reading this, dude. This is so not for you. This is for the ladies.
Well...you can stay if you want, I guess.
I promise I won't talk about tampons*
*Much. Also, that didn't count. But this does! TAMPONS TAMPONS TAMPONS.
Anyway... Hey girl!
You are beautiful.
Sasha, Esther, Sarah, Sara, Hannah, Jessica, Nicki....whatever your name is, you're beautiful.
You are all beautiful.
Whether you're a twin born in a pool or a photographer with fake teeth, you are beautiful.
I know this for a fact.
In fact, let me tell you a little story...
I used to hate my body. Hate is a strong word, and I mean every bit of it. I deliberately hurt myself. I did things so I wouldn't have to feel, so I wouldn't have to think, so that I could forget. Ever since I was a child, people made fun of me for my weight. And when I was a child, I had this neighbor...
They say people who were abused as children have more body issues; they hate their bodies because they feel betrayed, and they're very likely to be cutters (And vice versa, most cutters were abused).
Somehow I got it into my head that this happened to me as opposed to my sister because I was fat. If I was skinny like her, this would have never happened.
I started counting calories before I was ten.
Not obsessively. But that's still a lot for a kid.
When I was about twelve I started having food issues, nothing too huge. But in 2009 I started to really have problems. A lot of things happened that year. It's when I got started on antidepressants. It was a bad year. It was also the year I stopped eating.
Stopped.
I ate enough that I obviously survived, but I just lost all motivation to eat anything.
I lost 30 pounds in 2 months.
Part of me just let it happen with no interference, I'd been developing this immunity to hunger for years as well as a strong willpower. Part of me did it on purpose. I got into pro-ana websites. I wrote down every single calorie. I would use pretty extensive math with the listed calories for a food and the estimated fraction of a serving I had had. I ate healthy food, but I ate a small amount of it.
And I was proud.
My stomach shrank. I was slightly nauseous all the time. I felt frail. And I kept going and going. I would choose not to eat when I felt ignored or angry, or just because. Some people have comfort foods. My comfort was my hunger. Knowing I was that in charge of myself, the feeling of emptiness.
But late at night, I would cry. I would pray. I was so scared to die from this. I was by no means underweight, but inherently this does damage to your body.
Somehow it started to dissapate, but I realized the next summer that I still had a problem. I was on a trip, and they provided meals. It really pointed out the oddity in how I was eating.
Sometime in 2010, I think, I started throwing up. On purpose. Big surprise, right?
The feelings I got from hunger, especially the feeling of cool minty water in a totally empty stomach, made me so happy.
I'm a pro at sticking my fingers down my throat.
Not long after I had started throwing up more regularly, I got baptized. That stopped me cold until fall 2011. Maybe it was the stress of a new school, my sister being sick...I don't know. But I started up again. I was so stressed out and it soothed me. It was the only thing. I burned my arm and felt nothing but aggravation. But throwing up, soothing truly is the best word. I sliced my leg up during a dance practice I was stressed about and I was able to get through it. I was good enough.
When I started throwing up more, leaving bible studies to go purge 10 feet away in the bathroom, God intervened. For 24 hours, I was really sick. Throughout the night I would wake up every 20 minutes, turn my head, and vomit.
If ever there was a way to turn me off of purging...
But anyway. Flash forward to tonight, September Second, 2012.
I don't do those things at all anymore. They don't even cross my mind. I am healthy. I finally believe I am worth anything at all. I believe I'm beautiful. I don't want to die, I want to use my life.
It is the strangest, most wonderful feeling in the world.
This summer I had the opportunity to go to a conference in New Orleans, one of my favorite places in the US. At the start, I prayed, asking for permanent change of whatever needed to change as opposed to emotional nights at the conference.
I got what I asked for.
I have barely worn any makeup since the conference. I've worn it probably less than 7 times since the end of June.
I eat when I'm hungry. I don't worry about what calories are in my food. I love to dance, I love to run. I do those when I want, and i figure the exercise and food will work out.
This year has been huge for me. I've found friends, happiness, and love. I am confident. I'm not awkward, I'm not cocky, but I am confident. It is the greatest feeling. It is completely new. I stand by how I act and what I say, take things back when I need to.
I'm not afraid.
I'm not afraid to sing, to share, to dance.
It is so beautiful.
And because I'm not afraid, nobody can hurt me. You know the Eleanor Roosevelt quote, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent? I believe it.
I owe it to Jesus. I owe it to my friends, my boyfriend, and beautiful ladies with curves. Beautiful ladies with rolls, even. I know so many happy, beautiful, and big ladies who love themselves. Thank you. Thank you for making me believe in my beauty.
Now, as for you, reading this.
You are beautiful.
Believe it, lady.
I don't care if you have to write it on your wall (I do!), if you need to take a long look in the mirror at all the beautiful things about you. Look into your heart too. Get a notebook and write what you love about yourself.
Oh, and hold out for a guy who sees that you are beautiful just how you are. You deserve it. My boyfriend looks at me with the same look in his eyes when I'm wearing no makeup with my frizzed hair in a bun, that he does when I'm all dolled up. It's refreshing. And it's beautiful.
No woman deserves any less.
Don't you dare let society, men, women, or yourself make you feel that you're anything other than beautiful.
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