I grew up with people making excuses for my weight. My nan would call it ‘puppy fat’ and my mum would inform me that ‘it wouldn’t be fair’ if I was funny, smart, AND skinny. I wasn’t any better. I made excuses for myself too, and would tell myself every year that next year would be different. It wasn’t. I didn’t make any changes and I never learned to love who I was because I was waiting to transform from the chubby caterpillar into a beautiful, sleek, sophisticated looking butterfly. I never dreamed that all I was waiting for was acceptance from myself.
I’ve had bad self-esteem for years and it’s only since University that it’s gotten better. I’ve learned that people don’t really care about size, and I found it sad that they could accept me while I couldn’t. My housemates taught me that I’m not too big to be excluded, and I’ve learned to stop being apologetic about my weight. I worked out what size clothes I should be wearing and I’ve stopped crying over the numbers on the tags. I don’t wish I was anything but me. I’m not ugly because I’m fat. I’m beautiful with or without the extra digits on the scale. I’ve let happy, out-going, accepting people into my life and it’s made everything better. I know that it’s the steps I’ve taken to know myself, to accept myself, that I can have healthy relationships with others.
I’m happy because I’m finally coming to peace with who I am, and I’m happy because this blog exists.
If you ever need a friend, or just an ear, you can find me at: ibexie.tumblr.com
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