I’ve struggled with body dysmorphia since I was in grade school. Always believing myself fat, it didn’t matter what the number on the scale or the fit of my clothes told me. What I saw in the mirror was the truth as I understood it. And in my ill mind, fat equaled unlovable. By my teens, I hated my body.
As a result, I made a lot of yummy foods off-limits. And, I established all sorts of conflicting rules about how, when, how much, and what I could eat. I sought diet after diet, incorporating more and more rules and restrictions into my life. Talk about disordered eating. As an adult, I barely knew how to feed myself.
Today my self-perception is changing, with a lot of help. I’m open with professionals and keep my appointments. I follow body positive folks on social media and read their blogs. I talk about it with supportive people who understand and feel the same way I feel.
There are far too many of us.
At what point did we decide it was okay to sell ourselves out?
Just as importantly, I eat cake. And all sorts of other yummies. And I bake. Frequently and often. As a child, I fell in love with baking with my mother, and am gratefully embracing that enjoyment again.