I can't handle my body.
Staring in the mirror, I can't even handle to stare at myself for more than 5 minutes. I tug and pull at the little flabs that lay on the sides of my body. I worked out this week, why must my love handles be glued to my sides still.
"Wear a crop top out, it's summer and hot outside." You wouldn't understand how every-time I walk or sit, my body forms some kind of blob and suddenly all eyes are on me. "Why don't you wear something a bit more flattering?" You wouldn't understand the way my body rolls on the sides the moment I put on jeans. "Why would you wear that out in 90° weather." You wouldn't understand the uncomfort of wrapping your arms around your sides when you walk by a shiny object and see your reflection. I'll sit that one out, throw on a jacket or long shirt to cover myself.
Oh how jealous I am of the girls who can go out in shorts and not get a thigh rash. The girls whose bodies curve in all the right ways. The kind that all guys are head over heels for. The kind of shape that you can't see where my hips dip inwards. To me, they look like craters that lay on my sides.
I let people get to me. I let people make me feel like the number of gravity that's pulling me down or the way my hips don't curve as far inwards as somebody else's define me. Younger me would've been so mad to see the way I am now. My younger self would've been upset to see I don't have a "dancer's body type." I used to be a tiny stick, moving around gracefully. A respectful 105-115 for most of my life. Suddenly im pushing 150° and I can't stop eating my feelings.
The more and more I hear the birds chirping in my ears; "lose weight." Or "don't eat that, it'll make you fatter." The more I lose myself. I look through the pantry and realize there isn't anything healthy for me, not that I eat anything healthy anyways. I shrug my hunger off as I walk to my room and sip on some water. Laying down I dream of what I might've looked if I'd learned to eat better.
I lay in my bed as I cry and cry, knowing everything had gotten the best of me. I stare at the half eaten plate feeling myself slowly become more Ill. I can't. I storm out of dinner, throwing my food away in the trash as I run to barricade myself in my room. I scroll through TikTok to entertain myself but every scroll is a new workout video or tips to lose weight. What? Even my phone is concerned about my weight gain. God this is embarrassing.
I set my phone to the side and I stare at the ceiling. What am I so mad for? Why can't I look at myself and just feel pretty for once. I want to look at myself and be proud of what I look like and who I've become.
.....
I can't handle my body.
Done probably had a few errors but you should understand most of it
