I’ve just had some head-shots done. Keep your eye on my profile picture. Minna, who is helping me with my social media skills, and Brittany, the wonderful photographer, couldn’t have been lovelier. But no matter how lovely and complimentary and talented they are, I still look at myself and hate what I see.
I’ve hated myself almost my whole life. At eleven, I clearly remember feeling bigger than the other girls in my class. I was a full year older than them (I was repeating grade six rather than starting high school at boarding school) and my body reflected the age difference. Boobs were budding, hips were swelling, I felt bell shaped compared to their bodies. I started writing exercise plans for myself and dieting.
The battle with my body really never ceased from then on. Crazily, times in my life when I was at my thinnest were also times when I was at my most stressed and least happy. But, when I was relaxed and happy and gained weight, I felt like a failure and bad about myself. Then, a couple of years ago I made a decision to let it go, focus on my health and happiness and not my weight. You might remember this post about that decision.
I wish that wasn’t the case, but it is. Here’s the thing though, it’s in my head. How I see myself is not how others see me. It’s not how I am. And the great thing about that is we can all change how we think. It just take practise.
Lots of practise.