This was me.. 5’7.5” tall and 102 pounds..
Depression. Stress. Loneliness. Pressure and countless affairs had taken a toll on my self esteem..
All of that helped manifest an eating disorder, Anorexia.
Anytime I’d lose weight- it was almost always because of an eating disorder and people would celebrate it and congratulate me.. little did they know but they were aiding in something very unhealthy and encouraging a major illness.
All of my life I’d struggled with some form of an eating disorder (body dysmorphia, over eating, not eating enough..) this time though- it was extreme. And I remember being so proud of how I looked. I was obsessed… but the reality was that I starved myself every day.. if I put food in my mouth- I’d secretly spit it back out.
I drank an excessive amount of liquid to rid myself any amount of bloat/water weight.
I constantly poked at myself to make sure I hadn’t gained a new roll in the last five minutes.
If I laughed, I’d make sure my chin didn’t double.
I’d breathe up through my chest and not my stomach so my stomach wouldn’t look bigger.
Each time I’d weigh myself, I’d deeply inhale and exhale thinking it’d rid my of any “air weight”..
This photo was taken nine years ago and I wish I could say I’ve changed. The truth is- I haven’t changed much.. I am not as deep down as I was in this photo.. I have grown and changed, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I still have some tendencies.. I still struggle with dysmorphia.. weight still revolves around my every thought..
The difference this time though is that I am being open about it because I WANT TO CHANGE. I can absolutely do better loving myself.
I don’t want to live every moment of my life obsessing over my weight or appearance. I’ve already wasted enough time doing just that, and I’m tired of it.
So here’s to me, being vulnerable in hopes of changing for the better!
Sending out so much love🤍
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