"You’re the most self-conscious person I know," he said.
I went silent.
"You care so much about what other people are thinking about you,"
Still, I kept quiet.
Because he didn’t know the truth. He didn’t need to know the truth. Actually, I liked that he thought that about me. I liked that he was so far off from the truth. That he was (is) so wrong.
Sometimes (and I cringe at typing this, but whatever) I think I’m pretty hot stuff. I like to think most people believe this at some point - they do, right? Sometimes I walk down the street and smile to myself at all the things I’ve accomplished (the travelling, Base Camp Mt. Everest, Chicago, Las Vegas & Berlin full marathons, working in finance on the stock market, moving across the world to Melbourne, CrossFit) and I am proud of the person I am, or more appropriately, proud of the person I’ve become (a ridiculously, ridiculously funny & charming & sweet person. Ha! kidding. Or am I? I’m not. Or am I? I’m not). Truth Bomb: sometimes I’m not self-conscious at all. Actually, to myself (if that even makes sense) sometimes I’m quite cocky… sometimes.
And I was thinking today as I lay on the beach (woot!) about this blog. And how I must come across to the people in the far off corners of the world (*waves frantically to you*). The ups and downs. Downs and ups. The left and rights. But I was thinking how it’s my confidence in who I am that allows me to have this blog. Allows me to write so freely. Allows me to tell you I’ve thrown up meals before, binge ate quite severely, skipped meals, didn’t get a dream job, got dumped over a text message (ouch!), and all the crappy things that happen in my life. It’s because at the end of the day when I’m going to bed, I know who I am and I really don’t care if you and your mother are going to judge me for it because, well, I’m human.
I believe it’s possible to want to change your life, better yourself, better your body, and still be proud of who you are. Wanting to lose weight does not equal ‘I hate myself’ - a common error that I find is made. To me, wanting to lose weight is simply wanting to improve myself. Wanting to be healthier, and obviously wanting to look better. And I, for one, feel like that is okay.
So yes, I (still, I know, I know) really want to lose weight. And yes, I do still sometimes think I look like an egg walking down the street with limbs. And yup, I’m still painfully aware that I was the only girl on the Whitsundays boat tour that wore/needed a one-piece. And yes, I still move my purse to the side people are on to hide my stomach, but… but all those things don’t make me hate the entirety of the person I am.
So sure, I have my moments, as most normal people do, but on the whole, I love my life. But I find the words “I love my life” weird and conceited to write or say, so I tend to only mention the moments I’m feeling, well, human.
He was wrong. That guy who said those words to me, so wrong. Because sure I have my moments, but those moments don’t define me, they’re just a slice of the pie that makes me who I am, that’s it, and that’s all.