I know the natural reaction when you read something where some one is sharing something personal is to cringe (especially if yer scotch like me). But honestly, if the wisdom I’ve built up from the shite I’ve put myself through over the years helps one wee soul in the same position, then it’s worth cringing, innit?
Nowadays I’m a fucking warrior for self acceptance, body confidence, and just outright accepting the fact that we’re all damn beautiful. Cellulite, apple shapes, pear shapes, nae boobs, thunder thighs, double chin..... ugh, does this sound familiar? We brand each other everyday. It makes me so sad. I was never happy until I could see through all that shite and start living life, genuinely truthfully loving who I was. And to do that, you have to care for yourself like you are your own child.
Here's two photos. The first is me aged 20, and a UK size 4 to 6. This is after I'd collapsed and had my first journey in an ambulance, and in this photo I'd actually started to PUT ON weight. I thought I was getting fat.
The second is me aged 24 and a UK size 12 to 14. Whether its a good thing or a bad thing, I'm in the buff and lovin' it. This is a professionally taken photo so yup, its a kind one. But let me assure you, I've got cellulite, bingo wings, a chunky tum that requires spanx, and I'd love for my boobs to be the same size as my ass. But none of these things matter. Perfect people don't exist. There are only healthy people and unhealthy people.
God bless you if you're one of the healthy ones, or one of the unhealthy ones. We're all people and names and insults kill. Its our fucking job on this earth to make each other feel valued and appreciated, and to not crush each others individuality.
Blessings, Babzzzzz. xxx
