I always look so far in the past and think about how much I miss my old, petite, 100 pound self. But I always forget that I was only that small because of unhealthy habits that, once I thought were cured, turned into an obsessive maintenance of a healthy weight. It’s like I’m almost totally ignorant to the fact that some of my worst years, mentally, were when I was at my most physically attractive state.
People tend to think that fatness is the ultimate indicator of poor health: like, if you have more than 2 percent body fat, you’re seen as a slob in their eyes. But these same people forget that, in order to maintain a healthy weight and BMI, most people -- predominantly girls and young women -- do super unhealthy and self-destructive things. This includes anything from obsessive calorie counting, to obsessive working out after a less-than nutritious day of eating.
When I took the following picture, I thought I was healthy; and so did everyone else.
But when I took this picture, I was eating a “healthy” 1,000 calories a day. The average sedentary female should be eating at least 1,600 calories a day. That means, the average female athlete needs to be eating around 2,000 calories to perform at her best -- both in daily life, and in the gym or on the field. I thought that my anorexic struggles were behind me, and that 1,000 calories was a healthy amount to eat. I wish I'd known how wrong I was. When I took this picture, I was eating that few calories a day and running a minimum of five miles a day. That means only about 500 calories were actually being absorbed into my body and used for fuel, repairs and everything else it needed as the elite runner that I was; the rest were burned off in my workouts.
My peers always commented on my petite figure, using my small size to shower me in compliments. They had no idea that I wasn’t healthy; that my mental health was destroyed, and that my body was fighting so hard to keep me awake and functioning all day with such an insufficient amount of fat, carbs and other basic nutrients an athlete needs. Even my doctor thought I was healthy, simply because I was a healthy weight.
Not a single person knew how hard I struggled to get through every day; how constantly exhausted I was. I thought that I was just under-rested, and even tried to convince myself of this after the nights that I got plenty of sleep. It wasn't until later that I finally put the pieces together and realized that my mood swings and lack of self-care were tearing me apart. I was tearing myself apart for my own -- and everyone else’s -- satisfaction.
The following pictures are what my body looks like now; they were just taken this morning. I wish I could flex for y'all, but I wanna get my ultimate point across as the lil' chunk that I am.
To a lot of people, I’m gross; all because I’m visually not as pleasing as the average 20-year-old girl. I mean, I'm about 5 feet tall and over 150 pounds. I'm border-lining obesity. Plus, I don't even know girls who weigh that much at 6 feet tall.
I don't blame people for being so afraid of my body, being that it's not something they're used to seeing. My mental health isn’t great, I promise you that; and if you’re one who tends to read my articles weekly, or even every-so-often, you’re well aware of that. My physical health isn’t in a great state, either, because of so many medical issues that were partially a consequence of how poorly I treated my body in the past. But, overall, I’m making the healthiest efforts I ever have, both in the gym and with my diet. I’m doing the best I possibly can do, as a broke college student who seems to have all the forces of the world working against her at all times. I’m strong, although I might not look like I am; and I eat a healthy amount of food, as well as better quality food than ever before -- despite the fact that I look like the type of person who eats much more than necessary. Life isn’t fair like that.
The important thing is, I'm treating myself with care, and I’m finally beginning to accept my body and myself for who I am. Of course, it’s incredibly hard to do this, when hardly anyone else agrees that I deserve love and respect. For example, there's the man who told his friend, “[My boyfriend]’s got himself a chubby one!” Then, there was the group of young men who shouted out that “[I] got a fat ass!” as I passed by when I was out with my boyfriend a few nights ago. But I’m definitely learning to be kinder to myself, and I really hope that my positivity can be enough to influence someone else to learn to love themselves, too.
What especially encourages me to love myself, even if it's just a little bit more, is not the fact that I know I’m actually healthier than other people might be; but rather, the fact that we’re all so different. We all have our own varying perceptions of what’s attractive, what’s healthy, and what’s normal. The thing we shouldn’t let differ is our absolutely necessary love and compassion towards every other person, despite their outer appearance. That includes ourselves, too.
We all need to learn to love ourselves, to stop being so hard on ourselves, to quit nitpicking every flaw we have. Everyone has flaws. That’s what’s so beautiful about humans: our ability to differ so vastly, and create such a divine species of awesome, intelligent, compassionate, flawed beings. It’s so easy to forget that, especially when we live in a skewed society and mass media that teaches us self-hate right from the start.
