This is hard.
For the past six months or so I’ve been doing my best. Shortly after I decided I was going to love myself and be happy I slipped right back into self-loathing and depression. Now I’m pulling myself back out and it’s HARD, dude. Real hard. Some days I feel awesome, beautiful and amazing. Other days I wonder why I’m even bothering to put the effort in when it’s so difficult and the whole world is against me and it would be so much easier to just give in, hate myself forever and be done. So here’s what I do to keep on trucking when I feel hopeless:
I read blogs from the fat acceptance and body love movement. Ragen Chastain, Virgie Tovar and Jes Baker are my role model/hero/rockstars and I read their blogs religiously. These ladies are so fantastic and inspire so much motivation and excitement in me.
I look at myself in the mirror, sometimes clothed, sometimes not, and I force myself to see how hot I am. Seriously. This probably wouldn’t have worked six months ago, but now if I try hard enough, no matter my mood, I can see how awesome my curves are. My curvy body makes me feel feminine and I like that.
I solicit a compliment from my husband. Equal parts dorky and cocky, but he’s never let me down when I ask him what he thinks about my body. I used to think he loved ME and accepted my body along with me. Now I realize that he loves me AND my body, something he’s been trying to get through my head since we started dating. (Sorry babe- I get it now!)
I look at pictures of plus-sized models and actresses to remind myself that beauty is not dependent on a size and EVERYONE’S body is perfect.
On days when I feel really down, I don’t focus on me. I don’t want to wear myself down. Motivation and discipline are finite and I’m still new to this. Sometimes my brain needs a break. On those days, I make sure I focus on other people and why they are beautiful. Sometimes I do this with everyone I see, sometimes I only employ this tactic when I’ve had an impulsive, nasty thought about a stranger. In those cases, I recognize the thought as toxic and I make myself come up with at least one reason why that person is beautiful.
I speak out against body shaming. I haven’t done this one enough, mostly because I’m painfully shy and uncomfortable speaking out against most anything. But at the very least, I make sure that when I hear body shaming, I disengage from the conversation.
Mostly, I try to take everything one day or hour or minute at a time and remind myself that I don’t have to be perfect, because being me IS perfect.