This is literally something I wrote to myself this morning when I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw:
I have gained weight.
I could definitely be skinnier.
I big part of me wants to cut back on calories to get smaller.
I find myself not fitting into most of my smallest sizes.
I am scared.
BUT, this is a process.
I am beginning to adjust to this new body.
I have more muscle than ever.
I have a bountiful booty. (okay, maybe not bountiful, but I do have a booty)
I have boobs again.
I get to go and eat at my favorite restaurants.
My social anxiety is disappearing.
I am more confident.
I have more self-love days than self hate.
I smile more.
My hair is thicker.
I don’t have bags under my eyes.
I cry less.
My smiles are real.
I don’t get psychotic mood swing triggered by meaningless little things.
I am more alert.
My relationships have improved.
I am more open.
I feel like me again.
At this point I got up, walked back over to the mirror, and saw the same girl as I did before I wrote this. She is bigger than she was last year. She may never fit into those little jeans she bought when she was 14 again. But this time, instead of frowning at this new girl—I smiled because I was finally smiling at me again. I was proud of what I saw, even if I am still getting used to the new view.
I am sorry if I am beginning to sound like a broken record in my posts, but this is my open, honest journey. 🙂