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My body, my choice

To think back to all those years when my mind was constantly busy obsessing over being “skinny”, and even when awfully thin still convinced that I was “fat” (and thus unworthy / unsuccessful), barely eating or overeating when I felt that I have “failed”. The years of spending a ton of money on products and make up, and wearing my face caked in layers of chemicals. The years of hating my hair and constantly dying it a different color, and always getting a blow dry before going out. How did I even have enough money for all this? A lot of the time I didn’t, and got in debt. The years of wearing all sorts of cage-like push-up bras to pretend (to whom?) that my breasts are much larger. Ufff. I’m tired just writing this. And relieved to no longer believe that unless I fit a certain imposed “beauty standard”, I won’t be beautiful. It’s been a long journey of healing the deeply rooted belief of unworthiness and habitual comparison, of silencing The Judge, and giving myself permission to be me. Arriving on the other side of this process I found a state of ease, and softness, and freedom beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. Suddenly my hair is shiny and of a stunning color, my skin glows without any products coating it, and I weigh whatever I weigh and eat whatever I want that helps me feel nourished. Oh, and I don’t own any bras other than sport ones, and most days don’t even wear those. Here I am, letting it all out. Take it or leave it because I no longer need your approval to be me. These days I give it to myself whole heartedly. And it feels SO GOOD! Try it on. ❤️

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