Lately, I find myself with a constant inner struggle.
Today, I have reached my lowest point. The breaking point. The point where I have lost all self-esteem.
I hate my body and the monster that it has become. I haven’t always felt this way, but when I look in the mirror now, I hate what I see.
A round protruding stomach. Masculine shoulders. Rolls of fat where my arms meet my body. An almost double chin. Chipmunk cheeks.
I turn to the side.
Fat arms. Back fat. A flat, saggy ass. And back to that stomach again.
I try to correct it. Stand up straight. Suck it in. Push the remainder of the belly bulge in with my hands.
Except for the fact that I can’t breathe.
I take one breath and go back to the body that is mine and look at my phone. My boyfriend has sent me a picture of us from when we first started dating around two years ago with the caption “I miss this girl.” (Picture below)
Tears flood my eyes as the sting of what he says pours into my brain like salt in a fresh wound. The only possible thing that could be missing from the person in that picture is the body. Although not a tiny frame, I was happy with the way that I looked and it showed on my face; I had confidence.
I reply. “I’m still the same person. I don’t see why me being a bit fatter changes anything.” After all, it’s not like I weigh 300 pounds or so. I’ve added about 30 pounds since we’ve been together. Something I am not proud of by any means.
After a little banter about getting a gym membership like I have been talking about for a few months now, which I have not had the money to do so I work out around my house, he says “And looks do change things…”
Throwing more salt on the wound. How can you not realize that when someone is trying their hardest to lose the weight they’ve gained so rapidly that when you say things like this it only breaks their self-esteem even farther? The one person that I thought I could count on for support believes that his best motivation is a put down. I can’t believe this…