“I hate my body” was practically a mantra in my head for the better part of my adult years. No body is perfect because perfection is not attainable, nor should it be. If you insist on using the word perfection, at least accept that your
Pulling back the curtain and letting you see the (wo)man behind the Wizard of Oz is not an easy step for me. Owning my story, especially the part in which I developed an eating disorder, is truthfully, one of the hardest things I have ever done. I say this having lived through two Category 4+ hurricanes, one of which resulted in losing all of my belongings, so please trust it is not an expression I use lightly.
My truth is no longer something I choose to hide. I choose to embrace it and share the lessons I have learned from it.
I am embarrassed to admit that I spent not weeks, not months, but YEARS reading articles, pinning quotes, sharing links, following Instagram feeds, and reading books in an effort to crack the code of wellness as it applied to my life. I had what I have now heard referred to as “analysis paralysis.” I could tell you the latest research on paleo diets and their effect on reducing thyroid anitbodies, but do you think I actually applied any of this knowledge in practice? Absof*ckinglutely NOT… but my pinterest page, Chrome bookmarks, and followed accounts on Instagram would suggest otherwise.