They taunt me in the mirror.

Scars, cellulite, wrinkles, weight gain… all stared back at me as I lowered my head in disappointment.

I used to weigh ninety-eight pounds, for so long, that I became accustomed to that body. My ribs were protruding, and yet I somehow was able to disregard my health and found beauty. Doctors kept telling me to try and gain weight, and I did, or so I thought. Friends and family were shoving the words “awful” and “thin” down my throat. Eventually, I started gagging on my own sword. However, an eating disorder never crossed my mind. I was passionate about food, and still am. I could have sworn that I ate all the time. There was nothing intentional about my weight. I did not go out of my way to maintain that delusional appearance, but looking back, I never did anything to fix it, either. Social media post after social media post. Subconsciously begging for the attention that I was not providing myself.

I skimmed the details. I blurred the story.

Excuses leaked like drain water from my mouth.

Work was too physically and time consuming; someone loved me, and then there was the sheer forgetfulness of when I had actually eaten last.

I ate breakfast. Didn’t I?

All the lies I fed myself should have put on a few pounds themselves. “Be happy in the skin you’re in” they say. “You’re beautiful, no matter the size.” I regrettably listened too closely to them, and not to myself. I was by no means, happy. A part of me knew this, but I hid it so deeply that the concerns never seemed to reach the surface.

Honestly, I regret having someone show me a false sense of security and compassion at this point in my life. Holding me close while I pushed myself away. Love is blinding, and man, the lights could not have been any brighter. I kept walking the streets of Manhattan, and never once remembered to take a stroll in Central Park.

People ask me when the turning point for me was. I could not tell you, as I do not even know myself. Something sparked, something got the coals to ember. There I was, going to the Tides game by myself, the Adventure Park, and although it seems minuscule, taking trips to the grocery store. Independence, growth, and glimpses of pure happiness… I could feel a flame beginning to rise.

Choosing to disregard the opinions of others, their hurtful remarks, and unmasking their numerous faces, was ultimately life changing. I walked away. Not even walked, I ran. As I mentioned in my last post, a walk on this sacred ground has never felt more fulfilling.

I weigh one hundred and twenty-five pounds, as of my last visit. Surprisingly, that was and is still hard for me to embrace. Memories are embedded. I am still on this journey of transitioning negative feelings about my weight gain into positive. Started a gym membership, and I was going four to five days a week (took a little break recently). In hopes that maybe feeling like this gain is physically healthy, it will rub off on to a mental level as well. Telling myself that I am proud of the steps I have taken and continue to take, has been difficult. Here it is, here I am, reminding.

Progress is the prelude to accomplishment.

My fire will continue to burn beneath the stars.

Come, get warm.

Until next time,

Lo.