She/he/it, whatever you wanted to call it, was it again.
"You're arms are not in. Cellulite is not in. You're not in." Looking at myself, I was starting to think those things to be true. How could it not, she/he/it, said so.
"I'm beautiful," I chant over and over. I act happy and unfased and confident to the outside, but inside, she/he/it, knew how I really felt. I didnt have a boyfriend because of my arms, and my belly, and my thighs. My personality was killer, right? It's my body that makes them "ehhh..". I'd have flocks of cute boys at my feet if I lost weight, if I was skinny, right? That's all what guys look at, right? She/he/it speaks at night when your most vunerable and lonely. "You'd have someone to sleep with if you were thin, if you didn't have your arms and your belly and your thighs". Or is it really that your parents aren't crazy enough to let a boy you liked romantically stay the night, in your bed. Is it that the right guy will love your arms and your belly and your thighs? Is it that you're better off without that flock of stupid, stupid boys? But she/he/it, whatever you want to call it, comes back and back and back again.
"I'm beautiful and I love me," is my new chant. She/he/it is a bit softer now, "you have a nice butt but those arms? And that stomach?" I still don't have that boyfriend but I do have a couple guys that are nice and flirt with me. It's because of my butt and killer personality, isn't it? I didn't need a flock because I had two and that's already one too many. I didn't have that cuddle buddy with me when she/he/it speaks up loud at night but I did have those two. I still had those arms and stomach, but now I have a nice butt.
"I'm beautiful and I love me. I'm happy," it's been upgraded again. She/he/it isn't that loud anymore, and I've made an amazing group of friends. It's because of my butt and nice stomach and killer personality, right? I don't just talk and flirt with those two boys anymore, I've got four now. Still three too many, but they like my butt and my nice stomach and my killer personality. My cuddle buddy is still MIA but I have a while to find him and he'll love my butt and my nice stomach and my killer peronality. She/he/it barely bothers me anymore.
"I'm beautiful and I love me, I'm flowing with so much happiness, it shouldn't be healthy," this is where I've come. I don't have a flock but I do have a handful of nice boys that I like to flirt with, but I've calmed down with them. I have that boyfriend now. He loves me, he said, and my butt and my nice stomach and my killer personality and even my arms. We cuddle, but only with the door open, of course. She/he/it barely comes to me anymore, and when she does I think of my friends and my boyfriend and that handful of nice boys I like to flirt with. I realized she/he/it, ME, is my worst enemy and I've figured out how to overcome she/he/it/ME.
