Our mission: to love ourselves, every last inch! To support others, help build positive self esteem! This is The Body Peace Revolution!

This is a place of encouragement, a place to talk about body image, a place for feeling beautiful. No matter what you look like, what color, what gender, what size or however many "flaws", healthy, not healthy, working on it, we are all human, we all deserve to be happy, we all deserve to love ourselves. With this blog you will see all kinds of REAL bodies, REAL people, REAL stories.

-PLEASE READ FAQ before messaging

-BE AWARE some posts may be triggering depending on submissions, check for trigger warnings and tags. Also any harassment will be met with blocking and a report to Tumblr Support

 

-anonymous submission

I was browsing your site, and I realized all these beliefs I had, like thin people don’t feel ashamed of their bodies, why would they the world says they’re beautiful. That I should be thin, or I’ll never get a boyfriend. All these messages have been affecting me subconsciously since, I can’t even remember when it started.

I have to face it, I have a problem with perfectionism. I beat myself up, wondering why I can’t be fit, and tell myself self-defeating things like “Don’t bother trying you’ll only make a fool of yourself.” I have internalized all the messages I’ve gotten from school, society, that I should keep my feelings inside or not even have feelings that I’ve become unable to do things that make me emotionally vulnerable. I’ve been taking my repressed emotions out on everyone. Of course, the anonymity of the internet makes this easier, and more easy to become addicted to.

I guess I really should have a talk with my psychiatrist about this, and of course I have trouble talking to my psychiatrist about this because it makes me emotionally vulnerable. It’s just been all about finding new issues, grudges to hold, to build a wall around myself that convinces me I should fear other people. I have to stop this! Thanks for helping me realize this is something I seriously must work on.

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TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM
*****
I have a tenuous relationship with my body. Oftentimes it feels like a prison, a barrier to a pure mental life, and in my more desperate moments I still wish I could shed it and escape the physical world completely.
I wear an insulin pump for my diabetes, have acne that I compulsively pick at, and numerous scars from my stint with self-harm (now more or less ended, thanks to antidepressants mostly). I also identify as neither male nor female, which has led to much of the “tenuousness” in the relationship with my distinctly “feminine” body, with its short stature and wide hips, although physical transition (see: top surgery scars) has eased some of that.
Between the scars, insulin pump, and genderqueer-ness, I feel like I never see anyone who looks like me, at least not in the media. I often get questioned about those three things, and I feel like I must either hide them or face endless side-glances and semi-inappropriate questions. Usually I opt for the latter because it’s more convenient to tell someone to fuck off than to alter my whole wardrobe. But more nobly—maybe someone dealing with the same stuff will see me out, alive and unashamed, and we’ll both feel less alone.
*****
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TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM

*****

I have a tenuous relationship with my body. Oftentimes it feels like a prison, a barrier to a pure mental life, and in my more desperate moments I still wish I could shed it and escape the physical world completely.

I wear an insulin pump for my diabetes, have acne that I compulsively pick at, and numerous scars from my stint with self-harm (now more or less ended, thanks to antidepressants mostly). I also identify as neither male nor female, which has led to much of the “tenuousness” in the relationship with my distinctly “feminine” body, with its short stature and wide hips, although physical transition (see: top surgery scars) has eased some of that.

Between the scars, insulin pump, and genderqueer-ness, I feel like I never see anyone who looks like me, at least not in the media. I often get questioned about those three things, and I feel like I must either hide them or face endless side-glances and semi-inappropriate questions. Usually I opt for the latter because it’s more convenient to tell someone to fuck off than to alter my whole wardrobe. But more nobly—maybe someone dealing with the same stuff will see me out, alive and unashamed, and we’ll both feel less alone.

*****

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I hope this isn’t inappropriate; I noticed other full body nudes, so presumably it’s okay.
I don’t know if I will ever be able to accept my small member, but I am trying. It seems it’s considered okay to publicly deride men for something theycannot change. I believe this should be discussed more often.
TRIGGER WARNING:
The rubber bands on my wrist are there to combat suicidal thoughts, many of which are directly related to my body image issues. I have other things I am insecure about: Stretch marks, bumps, moles, etc.
I shouldn’t have to feel unlovable, or fear rejection because of my body! I am a loving, and even romantic man; I deserve love and intimacy like anyone else.
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I hope this isn’t inappropriate; I noticed other full body nudes, so presumably it’s okay.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to accept my small member, but I am trying. It seems it’s considered okay to publicly deride men for something theycannot change. I believe this should be discussed more often.

TRIGGER WARNING:

The rubber bands on my wrist are there to combat suicidal thoughts, many of which are directly related to my body image issues. I have other things I am insecure about: Stretch marks, bumps, moles, etc.

I shouldn’t have to feel unlovable, or fear rejection because of my body! I am a loving, and even romantic man; I deserve love and intimacy like anyone else.

BE BRAVE! JOIN THE BODY PEACE REVOLUTION!

TW: Mention of EDNOS
I’ve struggled with bad body image and EDNOS for most of my life. I’m 20 years old now, and I’m done hating my body.
All my life I felt like “the fat friend.” People always told me I had a pretty face, but that I could stand to lose a few pounds. I began binge eating in high school and was sucked up in the viscous cycle of restricting and binging. I’m doing a lot better and haven’t binged in a while. If you struggle with any sort of disordered eating: there is hope.
One of the biggest things that helped me overcome the negativity about my body was running. I started running and everything changed. When I run, I don’t think about how many calories I’m burning, I think about how awesome running feels and how excited I get when I can run further and faster than I did yesterday. Running helped me realize how amazing my body is.
And of course, I owe a lot of my confidence to my girlfriend for always making me feel beautiful no matter what. She taught me that it doesn’t matter what other people think of me, only what I think of myself.
When I took this picture, in all honesty, I was expecting to be disgusted with what I saw. Well, to my amazement, I fell in love with this picture and with my body. I realized that I wasn’t seeing my body the way it really was, I had this distorted image in my mind that was crippling my self esteem.
I’ve always been self-conscious about my stomach, but this picture helped me fall in love with it. My stomach is beautiful, as is the rest of me. I will never have a flat stomach, but that’s okay with me. I love my curves. 
You are more than your weight or pants size. Your body is beautiful and perfect in its own unique way. Your body deserves your love.
BE BRAVE! JOIN THE BODY PEACE REVOLUTION!

TW: Mention of EDNOS

I’ve struggled with bad body image and EDNOS for most of my life. I’m 20 years old now, and I’m done hating my body.

All my life I felt like “the fat friend.” People always told me I had a pretty face, but that I could stand to lose a few pounds. I began binge eating in high school and was sucked up in the viscous cycle of restricting and binging. I’m doing a lot better and haven’t binged in a while. If you struggle with any sort of disordered eating: there is hope.

One of the biggest things that helped me overcome the negativity about my body was running. I started running and everything changed. When I run, I don’t think about how many calories I’m burning, I think about how awesome running feels and how excited I get when I can run further and faster than I did yesterday. Running helped me realize how amazing my body is.

And of course, I owe a lot of my confidence to my girlfriend for always making me feel beautiful no matter what. She taught me that it doesn’t matter what other people think of me, only what I think of myself.

When I took this picture, in all honesty, I was expecting to be disgusted with what I saw. Well, to my amazement, I fell in love with this picture and with my body. I realized that I wasn’t seeing my body the way it really was, I had this distorted image in my mind that was crippling my self esteem.

I’ve always been self-conscious about my stomach, but this picture helped me fall in love with it. My stomach is beautiful, as is the rest of me. I will never have a flat stomach, but that’s okay with me. I love my curves. 

You are more than your weight or pants size. Your body is beautiful and perfect in its own unique way. Your body deserves your love.

BE BRAVE! JOIN THE BODY PEACE REVOLUTION!

I used to be insecure about my stomach and chest growing up as a boy. I don’t have the hypermasculine physique that society unfairly demands us men to have. I used to obsess if my stomach was too soft or if I had man boobs. I used to not go with my shirt off at all. I no longer anymore as I refuse to conform to these standards of hypermasculine ideals. Instead, I love that my stomach protects my internal organs and that underneath my chest holds my heart. My body’s importance is that it is the vessel for my soul and the carrier of the blood of my ancestors from Africa, Mississippi Valley, Mexico, England, and Spain. I don’t strive for that hypermasculine ideal through dieting, overexercising, drugs, or whatever stress that will come with it. I still have insecurities, but they’re withering away with my growing confidence and pride.
BE BRAVE! JOIN THE BODY PEACE REVOLUTION!

I used to be insecure about my stomach and chest growing up as a boy. I don’t have the hypermasculine physique that society unfairly demands us men to have. I used to obsess if my stomach was too soft or if I had man boobs. I used to not go with my shirt off at all. I no longer anymore as I refuse to conform to these standards of hypermasculine ideals. Instead, I love that my stomach protects my internal organs and that underneath my chest holds my heart. My body’s importance is that it is the vessel for my soul and the carrier of the blood of my ancestors from Africa, Mississippi Valley, Mexico, England, and Spain. I don’t strive for that hypermasculine ideal through dieting, overexercising, drugs, or whatever stress that will come with it. I still have insecurities, but they’re withering away with my growing confidence and pride.

BE BRAVE! JOIN THE BODY PEACE REVOLUTION!

sorry for the mirror shot, I couldn’t get a good picture otherwise.
For a long time, I didn’t realize that I had a problem with self-esteem. I thought insecurities were just to be expected. But a few years ago, I realized that I had insecurities that I really wanted to overcome. My friends, since I was in sixth grade, would always tell me how skinny I was. All the time. “You’re too skinny,” is what they would say. I would play it off as a compliment, but it actually really bothered me. Because I didn’t agree with them. I wore clothes that hid my “muffin top,” as I called it. I was so insecure about the extra fat on my hips, which is where all my extra fat ended up. I would wear pants with high waistbands so that they would cover my hips, and I stopped wearing bikinis because the bottoms didn’t hide my hips. I may have been “skinny,” but I wasn’t happy about it, like so many of my friends expected me to be.
Things continued like that for me for years. Now, as a soon-to-be-graduated senior in high school, I’ve finally accepted my body. I’ve realized that my body has a certain place to keep fat, and that that’s okay. I’m excited to start going to the gym and exercising, and hopefully to better the parts of my body that I’m more proud of, like my legs and my stomach. I’m excited to wear a bikini this summer and be proud of my body and the way I feel about it now. I’m excited to be able to look in the mirror and think “Hey, you’re pretty beautiful.” I know that I’ve got a bit of a ways to go, but I’m pretty dang proud of how far I’ve come with myself.
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sorry for the mirror shot, I couldn’t get a good picture otherwise.

For a long time, I didn’t realize that I had a problem with self-esteem. I thought insecurities were just to be expected. But a few years ago, I realized that I had insecurities that I really wanted to overcome. My friends, since I was in sixth grade, would always tell me how skinny I was. All the time. “You’re too skinny,” is what they would say. I would play it off as a compliment, but it actually really bothered me. Because I didn’t agree with them. I wore clothes that hid my “muffin top,” as I called it. I was so insecure about the extra fat on my hips, which is where all my extra fat ended up. I would wear pants with high waistbands so that they would cover my hips, and I stopped wearing bikinis because the bottoms didn’t hide my hips. I may have been “skinny,” but I wasn’t happy about it, like so many of my friends expected me to be.

Things continued like that for me for years. Now, as a soon-to-be-graduated senior in high school, I’ve finally accepted my body. I’ve realized that my body has a certain place to keep fat, and that that’s okay. I’m excited to start going to the gym and exercising, and hopefully to better the parts of my body that I’m more proud of, like my legs and my stomach. I’m excited to wear a bikini this summer and be proud of my body and the way I feel about it now. I’m excited to be able to look in the mirror and think “Hey, you’re pretty beautiful.” I know that I’ve got a bit of a ways to go, but I’m pretty dang proud of how far I’ve come with myself.

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This is me and I’m finally starting to believe I am beautiful.
Honestly, I took a lot of pictures before choosing this one to submit. I chose this one because it makes me feel good about myself when I look at it, which was something none of the other pictures did. I’ve had body and self-image issues ever since I was in 5th grade and started realizing that my body was different than the other girls’, my arms were bigger and so were my thighs. It also didn’t help that one day in 5th grade the boy I liked poked my thigh (I was wearing shorts) and said, “chubby.” It was the first time anyone had actually said anything to make me feel like my body issues were justified, like I wasn’t the only one who noticed. And it hurt. They say it just takes one insult to bring it all crashing down and it did. After that, I started thinking everyone was talking about me and my body behind my back, making fun of me. I began to wear baggy clothes just as an effort to feel smaller. It only made me feel worse, because I would see the girls in their cute skinny jeans and dresses and I felt so insecure and unattractive. It went on like this until 7th grade. In middle school, the important things are to have cute clothes and a cute boyfriend, or at least that was how it seemed to me. And I didn’t have ether of those. I had started martial arts over the summer because my mom felt like it would improve my confidence, I loved the sport, but it did nothing for my confidence. I turned to self-harming because it seemed to be the one thing I could control, I had tried losing weight but it hadn’t worked. I would burn myself everyday when I got home because I just felt so small in spirit but so big in body and I was so depressed. I had a best friend at the time and I thought maybe things would be looking up because she was so pretty and nice and if she was friends with me, there had to be something there in me. It turned out she would talk about me and say derogatory things about me behind my back to her other friends. When I found out, I was heart broken, especially when I heard that their main source of amusement in her comments came from when she made fun of my body. I ended up trying to become invisible. I went to even baggier clothes and burned even more, trying to avoid everyone because I felt like all they wanted to do was make fun of me. I hid like this until 9th grade.  In 9th grade, I finally made a friend. The best friend I’ve ever had and she is still changing my life even 2 years later. She understood me because she was going through the same thing. She showed me her scars and I showed her my burns and we promised we’d make it through together. She started helping me see that I wasn’t “fat,” I was muscular from martial arts and that it was okay because I was still beautiful.  To say fuck other people, the ones who really matter think that I was gorgeous inside and out.  She saved my life and made me feel like I was pretty and worth it and I try to tell her everyday how much I love her for it. She likes to say we saved each other and I truly believe that, because nether of us would be here if we hadn’t found each other. I still sometimes struggle to see my body as she does, beautiful, but I’m getting there. It has to be the best feeling in the world, finally being able to accept yourself and I cannot wait until I can fully experience it.
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This is me and I’m finally starting to believe I am beautiful.

Honestly, I took a lot of pictures before choosing this one to submit. I chose this one because it makes me feel good about myself when I look at it, which was something none of the other pictures did. I’ve had body and self-image issues ever since I was in 5th grade and started realizing that my body was different than the other girls’, my arms were bigger and so were my thighs. It also didn’t help that one day in 5th grade the boy I liked poked my thigh (I was wearing shorts) and said, “chubby.” It was the first time anyone had actually said anything to make me feel like my body issues were justified, like I wasn’t the only one who noticed. And it hurt. They say it just takes one insult to bring it all crashing down and it did. After that, I started thinking everyone was talking about me and my body behind my back, making fun of me. I began to wear baggy clothes just as an effort to feel smaller. It only made me feel worse, because I would see the girls in their cute skinny jeans and dresses and I felt so insecure and unattractive. It went on like this until 7th grade. In middle school, the important things are to have cute clothes and a cute boyfriend, or at least that was how it seemed to me. And I didn’t have ether of those. I had started martial arts over the summer because my mom felt like it would improve my confidence, I loved the sport, but it did nothing for my confidence. I turned to self-harming because it seemed to be the one thing I could control, I had tried losing weight but it hadn’t worked. I would burn myself everyday when I got home because I just felt so small in spirit but so big in body and I was so depressed. I had a best friend at the time and I thought maybe things would be looking up because she was so pretty and nice and if she was friends with me, there had to be something there in me. It turned out she would talk about me and say derogatory things about me behind my back to her other friends. When I found out, I was heart broken, especially when I heard that their main source of amusement in her comments came from when she made fun of my body. I ended up trying to become invisible. I went to even baggier clothes and burned even more, trying to avoid everyone because I felt like all they wanted to do was make fun of me. I hid like this until 9th grade.  In 9th grade, I finally made a friend. The best friend I’ve ever had and she is still changing my life even 2 years later. She understood me because she was going through the same thing. She showed me her scars and I showed her my burns and we promised we’d make it through together. She started helping me see that I wasn’t “fat,” I was muscular from martial arts and that it was okay because I was still beautiful.  To say fuck other people, the ones who really matter think that I was gorgeous inside and out.  She saved my life and made me feel like I was pretty and worth it and I try to tell her everyday how much I love her for it. She likes to say we saved each other and I truly believe that, because nether of us would be here if we hadn’t found each other. I still sometimes struggle to see my body as she does, beautiful, but I’m getting there. It has to be the best feeling in the world, finally being able to accept yourself and I cannot wait until I can fully experience it.

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Hello! My main focus here will be breasts! Mine, mostly. Even though I’ve never been at war against my body, I did have a few insecurities about it, I believe. As a teenager, even though I was rather pleased to see my my boobs getting quite big, I felt quite unhappy to see them start to sag, while (in my mind) all teenagers and twenty-something people with boobs had them “perky”. Turns out it’s not always the case, there are many factors that can make boobs grow saggy, weight is one of them. And it is NOT a tragedy. I was also insecure about my areolas, which I found too large and uncute. Turns out I was being very silly. Turns out boobs and areolas and nipples and everything come into different sizes and shapes, and this variety is beautiful. So my message here is more directed towards people with breasts that are bigger than average and might be worried about them being saggy (that was my obsession for a while): Your chest does look good. Your breasts’ sagginess or the fact that they’re asymmetrical or that the areolas are not small, well-defined circles do not make them unattractive. I have learnt to accept and love my breasts as well as the rest of my body, and I hope that every single one of you following this blog will end up loving their bodies, if that is not already the case. I know it can be rather difficult, but do not give up. (Why is there also a shot of my back, you might wonder? I just generally like backs, so I shared mine ;))
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Hello! My main focus here will be breasts! Mine, mostly. 
Even though I’ve never been at war against my body, I did have a few insecurities about it, I believe. As a teenager, even though I was rather pleased to see my my boobs getting quite big, I felt quite unhappy to see them start to sag, while (in my mind) all teenagers and twenty-something people with boobs had them “perky”. Turns out it’s not always the case, there are many factors that can make boobs grow saggy, weight is one of them. And it is NOT a tragedy
I was also insecure about my areolas, which I found too large and uncute. Turns out I was being very silly. Turns out boobs and areolas and nipples and everything come into different sizes and shapes, and this variety is beautiful
So my message here is more directed towards people with breasts that are bigger than average and might be worried about them being saggy (that was my obsession for a while): Your chest does look good. Your breasts’ sagginess or the fact that they’re asymmetrical or that the areolas are not small, well-defined circles do not make them unattractive. 
I have learnt to accept and love my breasts as well as the rest of my body, and I hope that every single one of you following this blog will end up loving their bodies, if that is not already the case. I know it can be rather difficult, but do not give up. 
(Why is there also a shot of my back, you might wonder? I just generally like backs, so I shared mine ;))

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*trigger warnings: anorexia*
I’ve been following this blog for a long time, but have always been too afraid to post anything. So here I go. I have a history of self-harm/hospitalization and was diagnosed with anorexia about 4 years ago. However, despite many treatments and subsequent relapses, right now I am doing better than I have ever been.
Last summer, I had a bad relapse, but I was inspired by this website to try and think of something I loved about my body each day. I found the best outlet for me was photography. I took a photo of myself every day or so, and learned toappreciate my body for what it was.
I took this photo on a self-timer last summer. I was in a very bad place at that time, one of my worst relapses, secretly purging multiple times a day and restricting. I would cry every time I looked at my body in the mirror. Meals were hell. But then I saw the photo. It was one of the first times I saw myself naked in a photo and I didn’t cringe. I couldn’t believe it was me. It made me realize that no matter how bleak you feel recovery may be, there is always hope.
Right now, I am…content. Happy. Food is not the only thing on my mind anymore. I am free to pursue other interests beyond obsessively counting calories and exercising until I pass out. Some days are worse than others, but whenever I hear that little voice in my head telling me to go back to anorexia, I look at this photo and tell myself, “I am better than this. I am more than my eating disorder.”
Every day is a battle, but we alone are the ones that can decide the outcome.
BE BRAVE! JOIN THE BODY PEACE REVOLUTION!

*trigger warnings: anorexia*

I’ve been following this blog for a long time, but have always been too afraid to post anything. So here I go. I have a history of self-harm/hospitalization and was diagnosed with anorexia about 4 years ago. However, despite many treatments and subsequent relapses, right now I am doing better than I have ever been.

Last summer, I had a bad relapse, but I was inspired by this website to try and think of something I loved about my body each day. I found the best outlet for me was photography. I took a photo of myself every day or so, and learned toappreciate my body for what it was.

I took this photo on a self-timer last summer. I was in a very bad place at that time, one of my worst relapses, secretly purging multiple times a day and restricting. I would cry every time I looked at my body in the mirror. Meals were hell. But then I saw the photo. It was one of the first times I saw myself naked in a photo and I didn’t cringe. I couldn’t believe it was me. It made me realize that no matter how bleak you feel recovery may be, there is always hope.

Right now, I am…content. Happy. Food is not the only thing on my mind anymore. I am free to pursue other interests beyond obsessively counting calories and exercising until I pass out. Some days are worse than others, but whenever I hear that little voice in my head telling me to go back to anorexia, I look at this photo and tell myself, “I am better than this. I am more than my eating disorder.

Every day is a battle, but we alone are the ones that can decide the outcome.

BE BRAVE! JOIN THE BODY PEACE REVOLUTION!

I have been at war with my body since I was in elementary school. I have a fat-phobic family, and comparisons of my larger frame to the tiny one of my sister/friends finally got to me. I lost about 35 pounds in high school. It went from “healthy” eating and exercise habits to obsessive patterns and behaviors that took over my life within a year. I was never *medically* underweight, according to the BMI scale (which I believe is complete bullshit). According to the BMI scale and medical doctors, I was at a very healthy weight for my height. However, I lost my menstrual cycle…..for TWO AND A HALF YEARS. How is THAT healthy?????
I was praised by my family, especially my mother, for my weight loss. But unbeknownst to them, my ‘perfect’ exterior was covering up a shattered interior—my obsessions with food, calories, and weight were ruining my life. I went through a very difficult stage of depression and gained weight last year, somewhat unhealthily, with irregular eating (restricting then bingeing, and also the consumption of too much alcohol) and finally went to an outpatient treatment center. Almost a year later, I am no longer depressed, and I am still at a higher weight than when I was in the depths of my ED. According to the BMI scale, I am “overweight”. I have gained 25 pounds since my lowest weight—the weight at which I struggled the most, hated myself the most, didn’t have a period, and felt the most disgusting—and honestly, I don’t care. I like my curves. Not 24/7, but most of the time. And I like being softer. I like feeling as though I can exercise moderately and eat like a normal person and not think about food constantly. I finally have tons of friends. Guys talk to me because I’m confident and bubbly and like myself. They like my ass. I like my ass. I have a woman’s body. And I’ve had my period back for 7 months. I can have babies someday!!!!! I’m finally taking care of myself, and I couldn’t care less that I’m not in the “perfect weight range” for my height. When I was, I was the most unhealthy I’ve ever been—physically AND mentally. 
So suck on that, ED.  
- BE BRAVE! JOIN THE BODY PEACE REVOLUTION!

I have been at war with my body since I was in elementary school. I have a fat-phobic family, and comparisons of my larger frame to the tiny one of my sister/friends finally got to me. I lost about 35 pounds in high school. It went from “healthy” eating and exercise habits to obsessive patterns and behaviors that took over my life within a year. I was never *medically* underweight, according to the BMI scale (which I believe is complete bullshit). According to the BMI scale and medical doctors, I was at a very healthy weight for my height. However, I lost my menstrual cycle…..for TWO AND A HALF YEARS. How is THAT healthy?????

I was praised by my family, especially my mother, for my weight loss. But unbeknownst to them, my ‘perfect’ exterior was covering up a shattered interior—my obsessions with food, calories, and weight were ruining my life. I went through a very difficult stage of depression and gained weight last year, somewhat unhealthily, with irregular eating (restricting then bingeing, and also the consumption of too much alcohol) and finally went to an outpatient treatment center. Almost a year later, I am no longer depressed, and I am still at a higher weight than when I was in the depths of my ED. According to the BMI scale, I am “overweight”. I have gained 25 pounds since my lowest weight—the weight at which I struggled the most, hated myself the most, didn’t have a period, and felt the most disgusting—and honestly, I don’t care. I like my curves. Not 24/7, but most of the time. And I like being softer. I like feeling as though I can exercise moderately and eat like a normal person and not think about food constantly. I finally have tons of friends. Guys talk to me because I’m confident and bubbly and like myself. They like my ass. I like my ass. I have a woman’s body. And I’ve had my period back for 7 months. I can have babies someday!!!!! I’m finally taking care of myself, and I couldn’t care less that I’m not in the “perfect weight range” for my height. When I was, I was the most unhealthy I’ve ever been—physically AND mentally. 

So suck on that, ED.  

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