YM was my favorite magazine growing up. I read them all of course: Glamour, Vogue, Elle, etc.
I stared at the beautiful models on the glossy pages. Their hair was either elaborately coiffed, or that seemingly perfectly imperfect bed-head look. They were tall, thin, and flawless. In. Every. Single. Magazine.
I was 14 years old and started popping Dexatrim tablets. For you young folk reading this, Dexatrim was an appetite suppressant. I was just starting to “fill in” and I had internalized what we all do: thin is socially acceptable. To be otherwise meant being ugly.
I started skipping breakfast, and weighing myself daily. My girlfriends at school did it too, and the topic of weight and calories was always a regular discussion. Our was worth was directly tied to the number on the scale and the size of our clothes.
By the time I reached my early twenties, after divorcing an abusive spouse and gaining weight, I stopped wearing shorts. If I was at the pool, I always wore a t-shirt or cover-up, sometimes leaving it on even in the pool.
I hated letting my partner touch my stomach, and would instinctively suck it in if his hand grazed my mid-section.
My path to self-love didn’t come until years later. I dieted my way to a size 4, and have since gained it all back and then some.
In that time, I got my first professional pin up photos done, did some acting and modeling, and decided I wanted to bring those good feelings to other women. I learned my craft, and realized I was not only helping heal their self-image, but also my own.
That’s not to say that I don’t still struggle. I’ll catch myself saying something mean about myself or my size, and know that nothing positive comes from that. It’s not constructive, and if anything, is destructive. Words have power and we say something out loud, we give it even more power.
The journey to self-love was not easy. It required challenging the negative thoughts and beliefs I had held for years. I started practicing self-compassion and mindfulness, gradually shifting my focus from my appearance to my inner qualities and talents. I surrounded myself with positive influences and began appreciating my body for all the amazing things it could do, rather than how it looked.
I no longer felt the need to hide or shrink away from the world. I embraced activities I had previously avoided, such as going to the beach or wearing clothes that showcased my personality.
I realized that my worth was not determined by my appearance but by my kindness, empathy, and the impact I had on others. I accept that nobody is perfect, and imperfections are what make us human and unique.
Instead of obsessing over calorie counts and dress sizes, I focus on nourishing my body with wholesome foods and engaging in physical activities that brought me joy. Exercise has become a celebration of what my body can do, rather than a punishment for not meeting certain standards.
Finding self-love also affected my relationships. I surrounded myself with people who celebrated me for who I was, not for my appearance. I let go of toxic friendships that perpetuated negative body image ideals and chose to build meaningful connections based on genuine support and acceptance.
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