i have a new food addiction.... trail mix. the ones with the m&ms of course cos why the fuck else would you even EAT trail mix.
grabbing a handful and pouring the contents of that handful (or two or three cos my hands are small) onto the kitchen table suddenly had me feeling guilty.
"how much did i eat today?"
"what did i eat today?"
"should i really be eating this?"
"im eating way more than a serving size."
"wanna know why you have rolls and no one else does? cos you eat too much."
mind you i was still trying to finish my egg sandwich from breakfast at work at like 1pm, but still. no matter what i eat or how little i eat.... putting any food in front of my face always provokes that train of thought....
"why don't you exercise you lazy fatty?"
"people make fun of how huge i am. i should probably not go outside."
"don't eat tomorrow. you dont deserve it."
forget putting on clothes and going in front of the mirror. regardless of what the tag says i just see a chunk. i am terrified of being naked or in a bathing suit most of the time because i am seriously so afraid of what i look like... i have no CLUE what i really look like.
and then... then i have women that to me, in my scope of vision and mental processing, are SO thin and beautiful and i would KILL BABY SEALS to look like them, purging, on diets, exercising more hours a day than they work, taking diet pills, abusing laxatives, starving themselves...
they think they look horrible.
they think they are fat.
then there are women that are naturally just thin. would you believe that even THEIR body types are shamed as not being curvy enough or shapely enough???
WHAT THE FUCKING HELL????
this abstract view of "beautiful" and "perfect" forced at women is just so fucking unhealthy. none of it even makes a damn ounce of sense. so if youre thin without curves, you're not beautiful, but on the flip side if you have curves but arent fit, you're also not beautiful.
where do you draw the line and say enough is enough? when do you just throw your hands up and say "i quit!"? when do you just STOP??
i don't want to spend my life micromanaging my food intake. i don't want to spend more time counting calories than making memories. i don't want to feed my mind and soul negative thoughts. i dont want to train my mind to think negatively toward myself.
i DO want to be kind and loving and generous and happy. i DO want to spread joy and peace and smiles wherever i go. i DO want to fill my soul with goodness and peace. i DO want my mind to think clearly and positively.
it will never happen the more i subject my physical self to these outlandish ideals of beauty. how much money women waste (AND EVEN MEN TOO) on trying to be beautiful and the perfect specimen to somehow snag an admirer. somehow if our bodies are "perfect" and our hair is "perfect" and our clothes are "perfect" and flattering our "perfect" bodies ever so "perfectly," then we have arrived and made it and life can begin.
no, it never will.
that focus will always be there... that focus on the outward.
so much time and energy spent on some ideal that means nothing.
i've been on the yo yo diets and had the eating disorders before. i got myself down to my "goal weight" and looking back at photographs, i just looked sick and empty.
i have no clue what my body looks like now and i wish for a minute i could stop obsessing about it.
some days i don't care, but others... others when i eat food and my spirit feels happy, it's the one major part of my old negative self that loves to come shit all over my birthday cake and rain on my parade.
im tired of eating soggy shit cake.
let's just ignore the outward and make our inner selves more radiant by the day.
let's stop seeing people for their asses and thighs and stomachs.
let's start seeing how beautiful someone is for who they are and how they treat others.
i'm just so sick of this body shaming shit.
i know so many "perfect" women that have the personality of a wet diaper or a moldy carrot.
i know many "larger" women that are so amazing and radiant and beautiful.
it's time to just focus on what matters... and it definitely isn't the number written on the tag of your jeans.
no more soggy shit cake parades.