Growing up I was an overweight child, starting around eight years old.
I would overeat and use food as a coping mechanism for some things going on with my life at the time. I was abused by a neighbor around that time. And that was when I started feeling unhappy with myself.
I remember all my friends were smaller then me. I thought being skinny meant being attractive.
All through my teen years my weight was up and down. At my highest I was 170 and lowest was about 110.
I would lose weight but I was never satisfied. I would binge to make me feel better but I only felt worse. I tried laxatives after binging. I couldn't make myself throw up.
I met my now husband and when I got pregnant I went from 130 to over 190 when I had my son. After that I felt horrible about myself for a long time . Then I started working out and am now down to 124.
I am finally happy with myself. I don't have a perfect body. I have stretch marks, I have some skin on my stomach, I have a c section scar, but I have come to realize that I should treat my body right. It is the only one I have. By feeding my body nutritious food and exercising I am keeping myself healthy.
My stretch marks are a testament of the life I carried inside me. The scar is where he was pulled from me and placed in my arms. My stomach which I once thought made me deformed, reminds me of feeling him kick and move in my belly. And my husband tells me it is beautiful because our son was in there.
I wish I would have loved myself when I was heavy. I spent so much time obsessing in the mirror for hours and making plastic surgery wish lists and looking at photos of women with flawless airbrushed abs and long legs. I never took the time to appreciate what I have. A beautiful son. A husband who loves and accepts me. Who never once made me feel less than. I am healthy and happy.
Being beautiful isn't being skinny to me anymore. It is being healthy and accepting myself and being a good person.