CW: Discussion of eating disorders, body image

I've written before about my battle with anorexia and bulimia. What sparked it, what was going on in my head, etc. But I realized two things recently about how I've framed that discussion so far.

First of all, my conversation about body image has centered around weight. Body size, body fat, body mass, whatever you want to call it my body image, and the body image of most Americans, focuses on the size of my body.

But size alone is not a catch-all for why i feel uncomfortable in my own skin.

For example, I started shaving my face when I was 12. This is not something unusually common in my family; my parents are not very hairy and my 16-year-old brother still has not started shaving.

But middle school was far worse than my averagely-hairy family. People used to make fun of me, calling me Sasquatch or monkey. I had hair on my face, hair on my chest, I even had hair on my toes (which was always on display because I was living in Florida and flip-flops are a necessity).

Seventh-grade me was so distraught that one night I actually shaved my own legs. To be honest, looking back on it I did a pretty good job for my first time.

When I walked into school the next morning with my hairless legs, thinking somehow it would make things better, I instead was reminded that "guys aren't supposed to shave their legs." The gay-bashing was only solidified. I was no longer just Sasquatch. I was now Gay Sasquatch. Fagsquatch, if you will.

Body hair aside, I also had terrible acne, my fashion choices were...questionable, and my eyebrows were getting out of control. Basically, I was a chubby, hairy, pimply, poorly dressed lump of insecurity.

But the other important dynamic I have failed to add to this discussion is recovery. How I learned to love my body. (Spoiler alert: I'm still working on it).

Experiencing that kind of bodily shame and ridicule left deep scars, both figuratively and literally, and I have had to actively work to undo the damage that lingers a decade later.

Now I won't sugarcoat it, this shit is hard.

I spent the better part of two years in and out of doctor's offices trying to figure out what I needed to fix from a physiological perspective. It turns out I couldn't stop gaining weight because I have chronic hypothyroidism. My physicians prior to coming to college must've missed that minor detail.

I also saw a psychiatrist, and worked with her through countless different anti-depressants until I finally found the right fit. Coupled with numerous therapy sessions, it took well over a year to reach this point.

With my biological foundation more stable, I've been able to start working on how I think about my body.

I won’t lie, I still have a long way to go. There are still days where I look in the mirror and pine for the old days where I weighed 50 pounds less. But there are also days now where I genuinely like what I see in the mirror, something that I’ve never known before.

I’ve learned that all that energy once put towards changing my body, is better spent learning to love it instead.

This is the only body I get, and it deserves to be loved.