I may be twenty pounds heavier but

that does not mean I am a lesser person

for I am much stronger now

I no longer fill my days with self-loathing and disgust

I no longer write the words “don’t eat” on my body as a reminder

I no longer go without eating

I may be twenty pounds heavier but

I am able to see the beauty in unconditional love and compassion to myself and others

I no longer look enviously upon girls whose ribs are jut out of their skin

I no longer tell myself how fat and worthless I am

I no longer believe all of my problems will be solved when I am skinny

I no longer physically punish myself

I may be twenty pounds heavier but

It DOES NOT give you the right to comment on it

It DOES NOT make me any lesser of a person

for I am much stronger now

Sometime when I am stressed, and I am defeated by school and work I yearn for a time machine to go back and relive my high school years. Hoping for something more simple, more comfortable.

I stumbled upon some of my old thoughts and it all came back to me. My last two years of high school I was in a very rough place.

I was very hard on myself. I hated most of my life. There were times when I wanted to kill myself. There were times when I didn’t eat. There was so little that I liked about myself.

Now I’m going to use this on my especially tough days. To remember how bad it was and how far I’ve come.

Be kind. Be thoughtful


I love the idea of marriage and kids.

But real marriage, and real kids they aren’t like tv. There are fights, and pain, and most of the time things aren’t very good. Most of the time things aren’t good. Most of the time things don’t end well. I’ve been telling myself for years that the reason marriage doesn’t work is because people give up to easily. But I don’t think that is it. I think its much more than that. I think as religion and obligations become obsolete so do the things that keep people in marriages.

I still like the idea of marriage and kids. But failing at it, realizing after a few years, maybe even decades that the person you vowed to love forever makes you dread waking up in the morning. That would be more devastating than anything else.

Why do  I get offended when people comment on how others have gained weight or gotten fat?

It hits close to home for me. It makes me wonder what people say about me. Do they comment on my stretch marks? How about my thighs? Maybe my cellulite? How about the rolls in my stomach, the flab of my arms? What about the way my ankles blend into my calves?

So when you ask me why I am offended, I’m not sure how you can’t tell why I wouldn’t be. Because my weight is none of your business, and any comments made about others I feel. I feel them right in my stomach because they’re the things I say to myself when no one else is around.

I dreaded returning to my small home town this summer. I got three jobs so that I wouldn’t have to acknowledge the fact that I was miserable.  Working anywhere from 40 to 65 hours to week I managed to save a decent amount of money.

It has only been in the last month that  things have changed.  I’m beginning to realize that no amount of work can compensate for a lack of meaningful relationship. It’s easy to fill life with work and goals because they’re reliable, they’re always there and I can control how I do in them. Relationships on the other hand are unpredictable. They’re inconsistent and I’m never really sure where I stand in them. So I’m making my goal for the year to be open to new friendships and relationships. I’m hoping for a good school year. And the same to everyone else!

Always Dissappointed

I suppose I’m at the age where I should stop expecting things for my birthday, where I should stop expecting people to be nice care about it. But I’m at a point in my life where I don’t feel like anyone cares about me. I have friends and family, who are there for me, but when I tell them things they don’t really seem to care. Its defeating. So this year for my birthday I didn’t ask for anything because I wanted to pretend it didn’t exist, and if I made that choice then I couldn’t be disappointed. So when my birthday actually came my parents remember as they were walking out the door and said “Oh right, Happy Birthday, see you later”.  Then I went to work  all day and it was like a normal day. No presents, no cards, a few Happy Birthdays and I had survived the day. The next day I had picked up an icecream cake for myself because I usually always have one for my birthday. When I got home my mom had a blueberry upside down cake made and got mad at me for picking up the cake. So then I just spent the rest of my day in my room. Then Monday morning a package from UPS came in the mail and as he was opening it my dad was asking me about what I wanted for my birthday so I just told him I would probably want help with college books and he told me he had forgotten my birthday. So he opens the package and hands me a fitbit. I asked who it was for and he said “Well it isn’t or me” So I was really excited because it felt like my parents did care and they had the whole thing planned.

Then I was talking to my mom about how I really like my gift and asked if she had any part in it and she told me that my dad had bought the fitbit for himself and then as he was opening it decided that he would give it to me, because my parents really had forgotten my birthday. I know its dumb to be upset but for once I felt like someone actually cared and then when I found out what really happened that feeling was ripped away from me.

On Adulthood

I’ve been 18 for almost a year now (I turn 19 in 12 days). While I’m technically an adult I feel like a child trying on her mother’s oversized clothing. I quite literally feel like I’m playing dress up wearing dress clothes and working a lot. On the last day of my internship I was talking to my mother about how I wouldn’t get to play dress up and pretend to be an adult anymore. She turned to me and said “you’re not pretending anymore, you are an adult.” That has resonated with me a lot. I still turn to my parents at any bump in the road, and any time I need money I ask them.  I certainly don’t feel independent or different. Maybe it is because I’m home from college for the summer or maybe it is because I’m avoiding the responsibilities of adult hood. I’m beginning to have bad feelings about renting a room next year because although I won’t be living with my parents I will sharing a living space with an older couple and another student. I feel like a flake, like I’m not enough of an adult and I’m falling behind in the game. I guess this all spirals back into my fear of never being good enough.

Be kind. Be thoughtful.