This Post is All About Me. Seriously. Me. Me. Me.

This is a post all about me and it’s filled with photos of me and I’m going to be talking about me and pretty much only me. Feel free to move on if this doesn’t interest you. And let’s be honest – it probably only interests me.

I’ve never been happy with the way I look. Ever. I hated my fat arms and thighs when I was around 8. I hated the shape my legs made when I sat on a chair and I tried to not rest all my weight down so it appeared (probably only to me) that I was thinner. I’m the short one on the left –

age9

In high school, I spent hours not eating and then hours puking if I did eat. I spent hours thinking about which foods had the most fat grams and how many pieces of popcorn I could eat and not reach 100 calories. Hours spent self-harming if I failed and went over. I was the fattest person in the universe. Here is what I looked like –

wow. i have no words

When I got pregnant at 17, I gained weight like crazy. Crazy! Like, 50 pounds in the last 3 months. After I had Devon, I looked like this and as you can tell by my bershon face, I thought my life was pretty much over.

sarah, i may have found another bershon.

After my four kids were born, I lost some weight. From the waist up. I tried to make sure that all photos of me were of my shoulders and above because I was a HIDEOUS size 16. Too large to fit most clothes in the department store. It really was the end of my life.

photo2sketch-innocencephoto2sketch-self-portrait

And now? My thinking hasn’t changed. I’m the hugest. Ever. Than anyone in the entire world. I have fat arms and neck rings. Tree trunk legs and squishy belly. I’ve spent too many days trying to figure out how to look smaller, prettier, firmer in photos to represent myself to the world as a different person. I was only fooling myself. As if this carefully crafted shot done in my own studio represents the real me. Still employing the shoulders and up rule, many of the photos I take of myself are fuzzed to oblivion because OH NO my skin has dark spots everywhere. And freckles. I love how this photo from a few years ago has the same bershon face as above. Trying to hide by chopping off the rest of my body.

nose

So, ready? This is what I look like, me. Look at it. Why can’t you look at it and see how great the family looks together? Do you have to pick yourself apart, me?

dscf8599

Still looking, me? Good. When I drink, I look like this –

IMG_0460

and this –



Leah’s here!!, originally uploaded by Aubs.

Here I am double fisting –



, originally uploaded by LeahK.

And you know what? That is fine, me. It’s ok to look happy about wine if you want to.

Here I am in the morning, hungover.



Leah, originally uploaded by s myrland.

And another hungover morning, also just fine. I don’t have to look sprightly in all photos, right me?



Ariel and Leahpeah, originally uploaded by crazedmommy.

This is me when my vest is too tight standing in front of a room of people. Yes, it doesn’t look as good as I thought it did when I left the house that night. That’s alright. Everyone makes clothing mistakes sometimes, me. Try to do it without hating yourself.

labloggerslive6

I look like this in a cowboy hat, all squared face. And yes, I was attempting to look cool.



IMG_8315, originally uploaded by katester.

Sometimes, me, I take horrible photos which accentuate my chipmunk cheeks, neck rolls and jowls while standing next to really cute people. This is fine.

taraparty_10

When I’m leading a craft panel, and someone takes a photo of me from a lower angle, my legs look enormous and look at those dimpled elbows. My, my. Me, I can see you wanting to crawl under the table. Don’t do it. We’ll get through this.



Crafts Session Panel, originally uploaded by crazedmommy.

And when shooting photos with my friends, I will quite possibly always be the Giantess in the group –

Pretty much, I’ve spent my entire life hating the way I look. And I’m tired of it. I want to love myself just the way I am, large or not, with neck rolls, size 26 pants and boobs too large to do anything with. I want to look in the mirror and not worry that those people around me are looking at me in disgust and revulsion. Or disappointment. Are you on board, me?

I want to love me with a receding hairline and skin blotches

Edit_Leahpeah

and chubby hands and fingers

muldoons_30

trying my darnedest to look good using the Myspace angles and liberal amounts of lip gloss

leah 016

sitting a little too snugly in the chair doing interviews

alice_leah

letting it all hang out with friends

IMG_0548

acting silly



Leah!, originally uploaded by MaggieMason.

and looking insane due to accidental oversmile.



IMG_8339, originally uploaded by katester.

All of it. All of me, me. Got it? I don’t look perfect. I will never be able to compete with porn stars. I might lose weight and I might not be able to. I know it’s hard with the medication for my mental health, me, but I can feel good for trying, right? In any case, let’s do one thing right and love us.

69 Responses

  1. This is one of those posts that I read, and I don’t have anything useful to say, but I can’t leave without saying SOMETHING. Because I want to acknowledge what you’ve said. (Also I think you are adorable.)

  2. You took the words right out of my mouth! There was a photo taken of me on a panel at SXSW once and when I saw it, I bemoaned that I was the Trash Heap in Fraggle Rock, but… looking at your photos here… and hearing you say the same sorts of things. It sounds… kind of ludicrous to a point. You look lovely and I know that might be one of those things that make you go, “yeah yeah”, but truly. I know people say that me, that they don’t see my weight or my issues, but I do. I think we’re often the purveyors of our own imperfections and we seek them out unnecessarily.

    This is a great entry, Leah. And by the way, your lashes are fabulous! I had no idea they were so long… 🙂

  3. Wow, I had no idea you were so cute!

    Seriously, I look at the pictures you post and they don’t really do much for me. Then I see these and by golly you are CUTE! You have a great smile, beautiful eyes, and wonderful bones!

    Are you skinny? Not at all, you look strong, bold, beautiful and I bet all your kids love hugging ALL of you not some boney skinhanger frame.

  4. Thank you for this post. I am a “big woman.” I don’t like to see pictures of myself, but I love to look at pictures of other people, especially people I know and love. I’ve been reading your blog for a while but I don’t remember seeing a picture of you until today. I think you look lovely. As I’ve gotten older, I have become a little more forgiving of myself and how I look. I believe this has happened because I’ve really let myself look at other people I come in contact with and I’ve finally realized we all look different — different sizes, shapes, hair color, nose size, eyes, ears, hairstyles, etc. I find I’m most happy with myself when I pay more attention to looking outward and interacting with the other wonderful, unique people who share my world.

  5. There isn’t alot I feel I can say, or add that hasn’t already been commented but I think that at one point or another we all have hated the way we’ve looked or felt uncomfortable in our bodies. I hope that you can see the beauty in yourself because you are truly a beautiful and courageous woman to even be able to write this and put this out there. Bless your heart for the courage you give other people to find strength to move past “what’s on the outside”.

  6. Oh Leah. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You have seen me at my worst, my ugliest and you probably don’t even realize how much you helped me blossom out of that dark place 2 years ago.
    It was such a joy to see you at Erin’s a couple of weeks ago.
    And if you could see yourself through my eyes, you would see just how beautiful you are. I adore you. I love this post and many of us could take a page from your book today.
    xoxo

  7. When this post popped up in my feed reader all I saw was the picture of you in the cowboy hat, and before I read a word of this I thought, “Damn, Leah usually looks pretty in her pictures, but here she looks all bold and sexy and cool.” So, you know… eye of the beholder and all that.

    And I know this is going to sound all woo-woo and creepy, but I swear your eyes radiate some kind of mixture of beauty and love and warmth. Once you see that, it’s really hard to notice elbow dimples and other trivial stuff.

  8. As so frequently happens when I read something you’ve written – even when it’s all about you – I feel like it’s all about me. Thanks for writing it, and for putting it out there for us to read. I kept thinking “no, this isn’t right – look how CUTE Leah looks!” (or sometimes “look how kick-ass Leah looks”…) and, “those aren’t chubby fingers, those are strong fingers.” I have a feeling if I let someone else into my head they would have the same kind of arguments with all the crap I let myself say to myself about myself; I hope you can see at least some of what we do in the pictures: cute, strong, ready to kick some butt or have a wonderful evening.

  9. You stand out for a reason, and your beauty only makes you more obvious. You were meant to be noticed! Perhaps you would be less approachable if you were your version of perfect.

    And I love the picture of you in the cowboy hat!!!!

  10. Hi LeahPeahPeeHead! I have been reading your bloggy-poo for a while now but I don’t think I ever commentated on it. I am not just tooting your horn to make you feel better–I think you are CUTE! I am big myself, but I don’t think there’s any way you’re a size 26. And if you are, GOT DAAAMN you hide it well, because I wear a 20 without squeezing into it and I look like I outweigh you by some pounds. So, good job either way! I look at photos of me and see only the bad parts, but seeing you judge yourself so harshly makes me hope that I am not as bad as I think I am. I really think you are beautiful and interesting and smart and deep and funny, and even if I didn’t think those things I would still think “That is one hot mama!”. I’m sorry you feel badly about yourself and I hope that you can come around to the idea that being big (-ger than other people) isn’t the worst thing ever.

  11. Someone shared this in Google Reader, and I absolutely loved it cause all I could think was “but she’s so cute! She’s too cute to feel EXACTLY the way I do!”

    It’s a hard road to that place where the pants we pay too much for at Addition-Elle don’t matter. I’ve started moving the camera down myself-I’m worth it. We’re all worth it.

    You’re beautiful. That is all. 🙂

  12. Wow. I’m in awe of you. I too have been through the ups and downs of weight (including the high school years of not eating and throwing up what I did).
    Doing a post like this must have taken an incredible amount of courage.
    I just wanted to tell you, though, I think your pictures (all of them, from the head up and the waist down) are gorgeous. You are gorgeous. All the more so for being brave enough to post this.

  13. that oversmile picture is awesome. i can imagine myself getting blitzed on buttery nips with that person 5 nights a week. i oversmile.

    i knock myself around sometimes, too, so i have mixed feelings when i see my friends do it. i understand we see shortcomings that no one else sees because we live with ourselves 24-7. i am not going to get sentimental and repeat how great you have been to me other than to say i like myself more because i know that you like me. whatever IT is, you have got it.

  14. I just wanted to say I think you are beautiful. On the rare occasion you have posted a picture of yourself here before, I’ve always remarked on your beauty and, as another said, your incredible eyes that just speak magic, but now seems like a good time to tell you. Thank you for sharing this.

  15. I know you as a beautiful and proud woman who truly lives in her body. I have never seen you hide behind a pillar or try to shrink by caving in your chest and pulling in your shoulders. When you sit, you don’t remain in the chair for long. Eventually, you get up and move in space as if you always belonged to that room, or wherever you are. You just simply be. I love the awareness you have of yourself. I’m working to achieve what you have as I have learned the hard way, to love her own bodily temple, no matter what.

    Yours has been an epic struggle, dear woman. In a grand and creative effort to survive, you were compelled to leave your true self and take on other personas. Now, I observe and know you as one who will never abandon that good, true self ever again. I know I speak for many when I say that you inspire me to stay within myself, in the sweet home that is my body.

  16. Leah, I love this (and not just because I’m pictured with your awesomeness). You are fabulous. Do we craft soon?

  17. I was with you when several of these photos were taken (I’m bragging, I get to do that). What I remember is the great time we were having, and how hard we were laughing, and how you rocked that off-the-shoulder outfit in the bar — the one that you just threw on like it was nothing — and how hot it was at the fair in La Quinta and the food sucked and it was overpriced and the waitress dumped us. But you were wearing a cowboy hat and looking like Sharon Stone. And Kesh, we were ALL hungover and nobody looks good hungover, period. Yeah, it’s a drag to have a receding hairline, skin blotches, neck rolls, and elbow dimples — I have all of those and more. But whatcha gonna do? Fix what you can, live with what you can’t, and focus on what you like. I like my determination, my courage, my arms and my calves. My best self-portrait would be from the knees down. I like your sense of humor, your strength, your intelligence, your kindness, your sparkly eyes and your smile. I love that you stand in a place of unflinching honesty and authenticity every single day. So naturally, that means that I love all of you.

  18. This post was amazingly wonderful. And brave.

    In every single photo, when you pointed out a perceived fault, I had to go back and look again to see what you were talking about. I saw none of them.

    I saw a beautiful woman. With an amazing smile and gorgeous eyes.

    You don’t know me, I only just stumbled across your blog recently, I don’t owe you anything. I could just click away and you would never ever know.

    But I had to say something. Because, no matter what you see, that is not what we do. Honestly.

  19. Well said. I think you look great!

    I need to do that to – Give myself a break and stop thinking about food ALL the time.

    You are inspirational Leah!

  20. I love a lot of these pictures but I think my favorite is the “oversmile” one. I don’t think there’s anything “over” or too much about it. It is, in the immortal words of Goldilocks, just right.

    Beautiful.

  21. A long time reader delurking to say… Leah, you are beautiful! I suffer from the same sun/age spots and have found laser therapy to be very effective and not too expensive. It brings the pigment to the surface which can then be exfoliated.

  22. Brilliant.

    Isn’t it awful how we see ourselves sometimes/ I look at these photos of you and see gorgeous, awesome woman. But you look and pick yourself apart. We all (or most of us) do that to ourselves. Why?

    I agree with you, let’s stop that.

  23. Oh my god. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. First of all… you are gorgeous. I’m the same size as you and like you, I hate seeing myself in pictures. I try and find a way to either make them “artistic” which is really just code for “try and find a way to hide the truth” or I just try and be the one behind the camera. I, too, am very tall AND a size 26. And despite what has happened to the OUTSIDE of my body over the past 10 years as I’ve struggled with infertility and depression and watched the toll it’s taken on my body, I find myself liking the person I’ve become on the INSIDE. I find myself wanting to embrace this slightly more cynical but wiser and more loving person. But I’m afraid to. Because I’m afraid that people won’t look past the two chins and the jiggly arms and the mooshy stomach. I’m afraid that someone will see me and think “What happened to HER?” and not give me the chance to show them that GOOD things have happened to me too! But reading this… you’re right. Thank you. Nobody is going to see the good inside if I’m not willing to love what’s on the outside. I feel stronger after reading this. I feel like I can give myself permission to let the beautiful show through. Thank you so much for that. What a wonderful gift you are giving people by writing this.

  24. Sometimes I feel blessed to be a not very visual person. I live in my head, so the beauty of people really shines through for me. I realized the other day that I had never really weighed myself til I was far into adulthood, and in that, I am a very lucky woman.

    I just can’t see you as anything other than gorgeous Leah. You’ve got something inside that burns like an eternal flame.

  25. Wow. You guys are so supportive! I’ve been crying off and on because I had no idea so many people would understand what I’m going through. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  26. To be honest, part of my reason for anonymity online is my hatred of my looks. I don’t want people to see my cheeks, which insist on being full and round no matter my size everywhere else. I don’t like the subtle acid scarring on my face. I won’t even get into the rest of me.

    This entry moved me deeply, because you brought home how much this affects our lives, how many areas it infiltrates. I just might have to come out from behind the camera lens one of these days and own myself.

    Thank you.

  27. After reading this, I think you are quite possibly one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Inside and out. 🙂

    Learning to love who we are is a lesson we should all take the time to learn. And then teach to others.

  28. Hi. Delurking to say that I loved this entry. And every single photo. It took me 35 LONG years to learn to love myself, and it was not easy. But now that I do (most days, anyways), I feel like a ton of weight has been lifted off my shoulders. There’s still a bunch on my ass, though. Oh well.

  29. You are amazing. And awesome.
    P.S. I suffer from the dread disease known as “Accidental Oversmile” too. I’ve convinced myself it just means I’m REALLY happy. 🙂 See, look–I even type it!
    This was a great post and I am bookmarking it.

  30. Half the time when we meet I think, Oh thank God, someone else is as tall as me. Then the other half of the time I think, Oh thank God, Leah’s so calm and rational about this and it’s okay if everything I just showed her is a total failure.

    I feel so much calm and forgiveness coming from you, Leah. I’m glad you want to start saving some for yourself. xo

  31. Well holy heck woman…you’ve de-lurked another one of us who has been reading about you and quietly admiring you, your writing, your photography, your spirit. Way to go. I’m so impressed by the honesty in this post, and that is just what made me feel such a strong connection. It’s honest. It’s true. We’ve all picked apart photos of ourselves thinking THE SAME EXACT things! We’re so hard on ourselves. Thanks for turning that exercise into a good time to be kind to ourselves. Go you.

    Oh, and I especially love the pictures of you in the cowboy hat (totally cool- not everyone can pull off a cowboy hat) and being silly (you can see the joy there).

  32. So what do I always say when I see you? “You’re so beautiful!” It just comes out of my mouth because you are so astonishingly beautiful.

    I loved this post. For its courage and its humor and, yes, all the pretty pictures. I’ve come late to really hating my body. I so don’t look like I used to. And it’s hard to wade into a group of people not feeling good about how you look. I don’t know if I would be brave enough to do this post. I just want to put up all the pix of me from ten years ago and before and say–here, people, this is really who I am…not the chunk you see in front of you.

  33. this is the leah type of post that i fell in love with, raw and honest as a motherfucker.

    i know i’m just some random internet person out here and saying you are beautiful in every one of those pictures, is not “believable” but try, just this once, to know i’m speaking from my heart. the heart of an over weight person that wonders where she (herself) went and the self hatred of losing her (me).

    your photos literally took my breath away with their beauty and how you share SO MUCH of yourself and how brave you are to do it in spite of not wanting to.

    something i’ve always tried to remember is that people respond to the truth of who we are on the inside (not always the “general population” of course b/c we only get a few seconds) but in the relationships that are most beneficial, admiration and love take over what is on our outsides.

  34. De-lurking for the first time. I think you’re absolutely beautiful. Your face has such a bright quality about it – the eyes, the smile, the expressiveness. It doesn’t matter what a person who has those qualities weighs, because those pretty-face people look stunning at almost any size.

    I lost 115 pounds and I’ve maintained the loss for seven years now. And honestly? I wish I learned to see how beautiful I was before I lost the weight. I hated myself then, was so hard on myself, was so obsessed with the way I looked in photos.

    Now that I’ve lost the weight, I can still easily obsess about how “fat” I think I am or how I look in photos – losing weight didn’t change my ability to do that, not even a little bit. So I just had to make an active choice to give that up. I had to stop it, just like you’re trying to do in this post. I had to choose to just love my body and love myself and be DONE with the nonsense. And it kinda worked. I don’t give a fuck now about I look in photos because I choose not to, and because I realized – everyone’s only worried about how THEY look in photos, nobody else looks at a photo of someone and goes, “Wow, she’s HUGE.” They just don’t. I wish I’d realized this years ago when I was heavier and hated the way I looked.

    Anyway, I’ve gone on too long, but you’re lovely and adorable and I can only imagine you’re a great time to hang out with. Your husband is a lucky man. I bet the greatest gift you could ever give him would be to see yourself how he sees you – sexy and all-woman.

  35. I don’t comment very often because I never know how to say exactly what Annika said on your first comment. But it was put very well, so re-read her comment and count it as mine too.

  36. Raised a glass (or two) to you yesterday evening. (And are those gorgeous kids or what? Good grief!) Why do we do this to ourselves? Reading this, it reminded me of what I do to myself. I read your bio a long time ago – and saw the picture you show above (red sweater). I thought – how refreshing – no make up – how beautifully confident – the real deal. And looking GREAT.

    Thanks for opening the picture frame, and your life, to us. You are downright gorgeous. Dammit. Got that?

  37. You happen to be one of the most awesome people I have ever met, seriously. I recognized that shirt from when I met you this summer (seems like forever ago; obviously we have to do it again!), which is not only a testament to your awesome, but also a testament to just how gay I really am. Wow.

  38. Wow, Leah. Thank you for writing this, for sharing it. For sharing my headspace for a minute, actually. I met you only VERY briefly at Blogher 08 in San Fran, and I was too shy/awkward to say more than a quick “hello!”. This might even be my first comment here — I can’t remember. (sad, I know). But thank you. One of these days, maybe I’ll try to do the same thing and let go of my Myspace Angles. For now, though, the rest of me is still living mostly in disembodied space. Hey, we’re all brave in our own time. 🙂 Thank you.

  39. Leah, I felt as if I had written this post. I feel as you do. There are days I would love to hide and never go out again and days when my weight and how I look does not bother me at all.

    My weight is my armour. It is my safety net. My comfort zone. My protection from the world.

    What is yours to you?

  40. Hi Leah. It is so interesting to me to read what people write about their body insecurities. One reason is that everyone is so specific and odd about what they criticize about themselves. Over and over as I looked at the photos and read the captions, I was surprised– Vest too tight? But the vest looks nice…– Chubby HANDS?–

    There is an infamous story in my crowd of friends. It took place in a freshman dorm. A small group of girls sat around bonding in that intense way girls do. They opened up about how they felt about their bodies. Several of these girls were overweight and spoke at length about that. Others spoke of problem skin etc. Everyone spoke except one girl; a tall, blond athletic knockout. She kept her eyes down and maybe it was assumed she had no complaints. Finally she said with tears in her eyes, “Ok, I’ll tell you guys this, but only because I trust you.” Nervously, she lifted a hank of smooth straight hair and revealed a birthmark. On her scalp. The size of a fingerprint.

    Later, the others confessed that they felt a flash of anger when she first exposed her horrible, secret flaw. But they realized he was sincere in her suffering; she really felt as insecure and malformed as they did.

    Everyone has their sh*t. Most are lovlier than they realize. Especially you.

  41. Beautifully told story that I can totally relate to, as I am sure many many other people can as well. A good lesson in trying harder, at least for me. I admire you. You are beautiful in every way. As Bonnie (above) said, most are lovelier than they realize. I would like to add (and live) “you are ok, just as you are”.

    xo

  42. Leah, I have never met you or seen you until I looked at these pictures.

    I just wanted to say two things:

    1. You are a beautiful woman on the outside. Your smile is radiant and your eyes are the kind that I look at and know there is a kindred soul lurking behind them.

    2. You are an honest and brave woman for putting something out there that you struggle with for all of us to judge.

    Okay I lied. I have THREE things to say.

    3. You are my hero!

  43. I wish I were brave enough to come out from behind the camera… pictures with me are tough not to immediately throw into the recycle icon, that’s for sure.

    I think you are just lovely. And, while I’ve never been here before, I will surely be back, because you’re so honest and your words have real meaning.

  44. You are adoreable.
    And always have been.
    And NO ONE can compare.
    Not possible.
    I hear your words…and the ones you don’t say.
    My heart aches for you.
    And I’m thinking of you.
    ((hugs))

  45. Leah – I felt like I couldn’t leave this post without commenting.

    Nobody likes pictures of themselves. I bet you that most of those people in the pictures that you were comparing yourself to, were thinking the same sort of things.

    In real life, no one focuses on your hands, your neck, or the way you fill up a chair, they look at your eyes and your face and your animation. And unfortunately, a still photo cannot capture your animation and your energy. Would you really rather be “eye candy”? Really? Because I’d rather be interested and interesting, funny, smart and cheeky, and NONE of those things show up in pictures.

    If pictures of yourself make you sad, then don’t look at them. Show them to others, and listen to what other people say and hear the love that filters what they see.

  46. I am late to this party, because I am only just getting around to clearing old five-Star Fridays out of my Reader. But, three things:
    1) You are gorgeous. I don’t know you, so none of that is tainted by an appreciation for your sparkling personality or your kindness or how great you are. You are just physically lovely, and that is clear in most of those pictures, both the shoulders-up ones and the ones that show all of you. And you’re one of those people who has that range, from sweetly pretty to just foxyhot.

    2) I hesitated to put that #1 first, because it bothers me a little that that comment might matter to you. It would matter to me, though, because that is the world we live in, and that is why I did put it first. But the comments from the folks who DO know you, who know that you’re smart and funny and loving and a good person? Those are the ones you should put any stock in at all. As women we spend a lot of time already worrying about whether some complete stranger somewhere thinks we look good. Ugh.

    3) I know only one porn star. And I would never tell her this, because I am pretty sure she has the same insecurities you and I do (and how could she not? Whether strangers think she looks good is her livelihood), but she is just not as good-looking as you are. Of course, I do know HER, so that might be to some degree tainted by her personality.

  47. You don’t know me, so it sorta feels weird saying this… you’re beautiful.

    And is it freeing, what you have done here? I hope it is.

    A few years ago, I put my number out there – the scale number. I hated the power it had over me, that secret number. I was tired of it. So I just announced it to everyone, and I worked it into many posts on my blog.

    I don’t know what kind of blogger I am. Certainly not a craft blogger or a cooking blogger or a domestic goddess blogger. I’m part mommy blogger. I suppose if someone had to classify me, I might be a fat-girl blogger, because weight has been a prevalent theme in my life.

    It was quite freeing to put it all out there into the universe like I did, and I think that’s what you’re doing. After all, we are who we are. Revealing that to the world is part of what we bloggers do.

    I think they are lovely photos. Well done.

  48. I think you look adorable! Nobody is perfect, and everyone always thinks there’s something wrong with their body. I’m at the other end of the spectrum, I’m super skinny. I always have been. It’s genetics. As a consequence, I’ve always been accused of having an eating disorder, people push me like they don’t even see that I’m there, any and all clothes I find are too long (I’m also short, only 5′) so I have to hem them with duct tape (I’m not much of a seamstress!), I’ve been picked on and beat up. I’ve tried to gain weight, eat lots and don’t work out, eat healthy and work out, gone to the Dr. to see if I have a thyroid issue, etc. But no, it’s just how I am. But after all the BS, at the end of the day, this is me, and I’m happy with that. I have to be. It’s not like I can trade in this body for another one, or change what genetics have given me. I think you look absolutely wonderful, strong and empowered, and you should be proud of how you look!

  49. Found your site through posting on Dooce. I might be late to the party but this is one of the best posts I have read. You cut through all the crap and called shit on everything every one of us who disliked our bodies do. It’s like you peeked inside my brain and put in words how I feel. Or rather, have felt and at times continue to feel. It’s a process – this accepting and liking yourself no matter what – and some days are better than others.
    You look beautiful, fun, and interesting. I would totally buy the first couple of rounds.

Leave a Reply