This past week I have noticed a new feeling within me, one that feels permanent. I have tried to ignore the signs and 'fix' it, 'shift' it (literally - been there, done that, a smaller me is not a happier me). Sitting with how my body feels and moves now is part of the healing process. Different to my short-while-ago body. The one I believed made me better, more liked and approved of, and more successful. To adjust is interesting. Difficult and uncomfortable, rather. I loathe it, and am grievous of how I used to look. Although I only realise this when I see a photo of myself or, dare I say it, someone 'likes' a photo on Instagram from some time ago, definitely not me now. Would they still like it now?
In the world we live in today, it is also hard to find encouragement, that it's ok to change. Nobody is going through the same as me. My close circle of friends are as conscious as they deem necessary to meet diet culture's expectations. The odd dietary comment, restriction or intense post-lockdown gym routine to 'get back to it'. It makes growing (in every sense of the word - visibly and mentally) hard. A handful of people I know are totally carefree, whose attitudes rub off onto me - and there is only so much self-and-body-confidence I can rely on until diet culture comments get to me. Trying to reassure myself that I will still be liked for who I am regardless of how I look (well, I hope so), but when others judge themselves on how they look, more often critical than not, it makes me fear their judgement too.
Gaining weight, out of necessity - not really wanting to - is unfamiliar territory and a new recovery challenge. Other people’s beliefs are their beliefs and I need to sit with my thoughts and find that inner cheerleader. To be still with my new self. As my therapist would say, zoom out and see the bigger picture; change is hard but I am choosing to free myself of diet culture and body punishment. That is more empowering than any external opinion, comment or restricted way of life. I think.
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