Tuesday 9th April 2019

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I feel like I haven’t properly checked in for a while. How are you all? I miss you. I want to talk to you about self love. Yes, again.

 

I’m not having a great time at the moment. I’ve got a lot going on and I’m stressed and very anxious. My eating pattern has developed some disturbing habits, ranging from me not eating anything at all for whole days at a time to cooking and eating an entire pasta bake intended to serve 8 portions. My skin is having an off few weeks and I’m breaking out left, right and centre, despite spending a small fortune on skincare. But, by some fucking miracle, the one positive thing I tend to be able to pluck out when I’m feeling my very worst, is that I’m happy with the way that I look. And by that alone, I know I’m doing something right, and this gives me a certain level of comfort.

 

Regardless of the white carb bloat or the swollen eyes or the imperfect skin; I feel good about myself. I am happy with my body. No, I am thankful for my body. I feel grateful that every day it gives me the opportunity to live and breathe and move around freely. It is miraculous and I am in sheer admiration. So when my mind is having a shit time and my head feels like it might explode, it’s incredibly reassuring to still have faith in my body and my physical health.

 

You know how I feel about body confidence and loving yourself. I believe it should be custom and the norm to respect and adore your body. You should be able to stand in front of the mirror every morning and announce positive affirmations. But, it’s OK if you’re not and it’s OK if you don’t. Every time I feel more confident and celebrate myself that much more, I am reminded of how far I’ve come. Not only am I ever evolving and adapting to that, but I know that I have not completed my journey. I don’t think anyone is. I still have days where I want to stay in bed and hide my body from the world. I still look at pictures of myself from years ago and wonder how I thought I was big then, compared to what I look like now. And then sometimes I get the most joy from posting pictures of my rolls and my stretch marks on Instagram. I get a thrill from wearing clothes that I never would have before, flaunting my perfectly imperfect body in hot pants and crop tops so everyone knows how little fucks I give about society and their beauty standards. It is a growth.

 

So don’t even worry about loving yourself for now. Just start simple. Start by liking yourself. Tell yourself every morning what you enjoy most about your reflection. This can be anything: the colour of your nails, the shine in your hair or how unashamed you are of your beautiful bush. Seriously, just pick out something every day. And then start picking out two things and three things and so on, and then remember to tell yourself when you’re out in public, that no one can fuck with you or make you feel inferior because you are the proud owner and proprietor of the best goddamn nails/head of hair/pubic region that anyone has ever seen.

 

Loving yourself doesn’t mean thinking you look top dollar at every waking moment. As aforementioned, it is a growth. Your body changes all the time, and ensuring that your confidence grows with it can often be a chore. The struggle is learning to love it at every given stage. It really isn’t about always believing you look better than everyone else, but understanding that, even when you’re not at your best, when you’re tired or sick or just plain over it, change in your body is natural and should never be apologised for.

 

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