Instead of posting my usual “P.s. It’s Weigh-In-Wednesday” post, I decided to post this photo. Why? Because as the story goes, yesterday I was procrastinating from life, and flipping through my old university diaries, when I found this entry, which happened to be from the night this photo was taken.

June 23, 2007

200, well, 203 to be exact. That hurts to write out, I knew this day was coming, but at the same time, I never thought it would.  Fuck.  It’s official, I’m fat, ugly, and a failure. At 180 I told myself no more, at 190 I swore it would stop, and now this? Two Hundred and three. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I just be normal?

Tonight Sarah, Caitlin and I went to watch [redacted’s] soccer game, I hardly fit in the seats.  I then ate shit food, as I sat there thinking about how fat I was.  We headed to the QP (a pub) after the game where I swore to myself I’d just get a diet coke, obviously I was useless and got a Caesar, and then split nachos… and I wonder why [redacted] doesn’t like me. I hate this. I hate myself. I hate me.

So yea, this was crappy to read.  I always knew I didn’t like the way I looked, but to see it so blatantly on paper? Wow.  For starters, I was an idiot back then, and my number one worst enemy. I was so naïve to say such self-hate things, and then expect myself to change.  Some people choose drugs, some people cut, some people don’t eat a thing, my drug of choice? to eat (and drink) everything in sight. 

I’m not going to self analyze myself about why I got fat, because I honestly don’t know why (Sorry Oprah, but I still sometimes think it’s because food is just, that, delicious), but the one thing I’ve learned since then, is I have to be my number one advocate.  I have to believe in myself, my worth, for anything to even begin to change. 

There are days when I still don’t like myself, moments I wish I was someone else, but I can now, nearly 4 years later, say with all my heart I don’t “hate” myself, not even a little bit, not even at all.

Notes: Blue eye phase (nightmare), and baseball hat phase (kinda wanna bring this back next summer). 

Also, I have become obsessed (obsessed!) with Operation Beautiful lately, and am constantly brainstorming sneaky, little places to leave notes. Not gonna lie, I kinda get a high from it.