Thoughts

Body Image

Not thin enough.

It's what goes through my head everyday.

5 feet 2 1/2 inches, 100 lbs.

That's me.

That may sound thin. It may sound skinny. It may sound like something desired by others my age.

But to me, it's not. It's not any of those things.

I look at myself in the mirror when trying on a new shirt, or a new pair of skinny jeans and think,

This isn't right.

If only my legs were thinner. If only my stomach didn't stick out as much.

If only I looked pretty.

The comments from others when I try and talk about my weight sometimes hurt more than my thoughts themselves.

"My stomachs' getting bigger." I'll comment when changing into a different shirt.

"What do you mean stomach? There's nothing there! Compared to mine you have nothing!" They'll say, most likely trying to make me feel better.

"I guess, but I still don't like it." I'll say, trying to let the conversation come back to me for once.

"Pfft shut up! Look at mine, it's all round and pudgy!" They'll say, poking at their own stomach. "You've got nothing to worry about, you're fine." They'll ensure me.

But I'm not.

I'm not fine with the way I look.

And I'm tired of having to compare my stomach to yours. Why does it always have to be about how little my stomach is compared to yours? Why can't it just be about how I feel my stomach is?

When I look down at my nearly flat stomach, all I see is the little bit of fat covering what my brain tells me is ideal. And all I want to do is get rid of it.

I want it to just go away so I can finally see my body and be happy with it. So that I can finally smile when I look in the mirror.

But life just isn't that easy.

I've never had an eating disorder, however I will admit to thinking about it.

After eating a big meal at a family gathering, I have thought about sticking a toothbrush down the back of my throat.

I thought about it for a while, holding the toothbrush in my hand, letting it try and persuade me to just do it. Just get it over with.

But my senses kicked in eventually. I drop the toothbrush back into its holder and walk away, leaving the urge behind me.

In my heart I guess I know that doing that will only bring me more pain and problems. And I definitely don't need more of those.

I have struggled with my body image ever since the end of elementary school and I still haven't gotten it under control.

I still look in the mirror and suck in my stomach to see what I could have. To see what I want.

When shopping in stores, I always get disappointed when I need to get the S instead of the XS. It feels like I'm getting even bigger than I already am. Most of the time I won't even buy it.

When I shop for jeans I always grab the size 0 first, no matter if I know it won't fit or not. When I try and hoist them up my legs and they just barely fit, I curse myself for being lazy.

This type of attitude isn't healthy.

But I can't help it.

It's how my mind works.

It's a setback in my life that can make me not want to do things.

It's one of the causes of my depression.

But I will try my hardest to not let it control me more than it already does.

One day at a time, I will look in the mirror and block out the terrible things I want to tell myself and walk away feeling a little bit better.

I will not give up the fight to feel good about myself once again.

And one day, I will succeed.