Is My Body, My Body?

Growing up, I was always bigger. Broad shoulders, thick thighs, big boobs, and a tummy. Even at my most fit (I played soccer for many years), I still had a tummy. I had muscle as well.

At 17, I was almost 200 lbs.

In my first year of undergrad, I barely ate and walked everywhere. I was constantly on the move. In the span of 10 months, I had lost 20 lbs. I’d gone from 189 lbs to 169 lbs. My thighs were smaller, my backrolls almost disappeared, my boobs got smaller, and my tummy got smaller. I was elated, and so was my family.

I felt beautiful for the first time.

But it came at a cost. Due to my lack of eating, I suffered from frequent migraines. My head would be in terrible pain in the mornings, something water couldn’t assuage.

As I began my second year of undergrad, I made a promise to myself that I would eat more. At least one or two main meals a day. And it has helped. I don’t get as many migraines as I used to… but I’ve gained weight. Instead of 169 or 168 lbs, I’m now 173 lbs. 

I feel… bad? Like I’ve failed. Maybe I should have tried harder. Resisted food no matter how badly my tummy might’ve ached or head pounded. I already walk a lot. If I made a better effort to eat more sparingly, maybe I could’ve lost more weight or even maintained my newfound beauty.

So now it’s spring break and summer is right around the corner. I’m in my childhood home and have weighed myself. I am 178 lbs and I feel… insecure. I want to buy myself a bikini, but the fear of looking like a beached whale amongst slutty and snatched waists and toned abs stops me.

I want to feel more comfortable with my body and its curves. But in a world of flat stomachs… does self-love even matter?

XOXO, Michaela