|You know what I see when I look at these photos? Not|
the awesomeness of my last recital or
The first thing I see is how big my calves are.
As I have said before, I have an eating disorder. I am really sensitive about my eating disorder. I desperately am searching for some sort of solution and closure to it. And I think that is all any of us (eating disorder or not) can ever do in our lives. We've talked about my eating disorder before.
People ask me how I'm doing. I'm doing terribly.
I cry. I weigh myself. I work out. I dance. I work hard. I do not indulge. And I do not lose weight.
I'm ugly. My clavicles are too boney. I'm too fat. My ribs are too wide. I'm too short. I'm scarred. My butt is too big. My thighs are too round and they double in size when I sit down. My boobs aren't big enough. My stomach's not flat enough. I'm broken. I'm just not good enough.
|The first thing I see here|
is how there is no curve to
Let's talk about how hard it is to have BDD. I may wake up, look in the mirror, and think, "damn, girl, you look pretty good today." Then I'll get dressed and the hell begins. I may not even make it out of my bedroom before I cry. If I'm lucky, I'll pick an outfit and I'll make it all the way to work before I feel like a beached whale.
My view of my body literally changes before my eyes. I have no perception of how my body looks. I don't know which view is true, which is accurate. I have tried everything to figure it out. I google women my height and weight and they all look different (God bless diversity). I have honestly no idea what I look like on a day to day basis. My entire perception of my appearance is based on the scale number, because I can't trust my eyes, my feelings, or the mirror. When you make fun of me for taking a selfie, I am probably just trying to figure out if I am bulging out over anything.
Which is also why my goal weight is so important. That stupid little digital number is the only thing I can use to cling to any sanity. Being told I look overweight is devastating because if they're right, my whole day has been a lie. My perception and self worth just got shattered.
I pride myself on being somewhat of a fashionista. I always have my makeup done. I always have some sort of cute outfit and jewelry on. My hair is always done. ALWAYS.
Because that makes me feel good. It makes me feel prepared. I don't dress to impress anyone. I dress to make myself feel halfway decent.
Because those external things are things I can control. I developed those skills out of feeling like crap all the time. I learned how to dress any shape because I don't know what shape I am. It's different in my eyes every day. So I have to be armed to confront that. And it sucks.
It's hard to live this way. Damn hard. I don't know if it will ever be easier. I don't know if I will ever completely take my life back from my critic.
|This is a modeling shot I did this spring. The first thing|
I see is how round my face is and how big
my arms are.
I love and embrace who I am as a person. I hate that advice. It's the outside I don't like. How am I supposed to feel like my body's a temple when I feel like I have let my temple fall into disrepair? People underestimate how much self-hatred it takes to make yourself throw up.
The captions on my photos are what go through my mind every minute of every day. Every time I see a reflection in a mirror, a window, or a puddle. But it's a journey. It's a process. Everyone faces different trials. And these are mine. And I am lucky to be able to share my journey. If I were able to affect change in just one person's life by sharing my story, play by play, ugly details galore, that makes my whole experience worth it to me.