I’ve previously spoken quite a lot on here about body confidence and how the so called perfect body doesn’t exist; the responses were so lovely and inspiring. Lately I’ve been feeling pretty rotten about the way I look and the numbers I see on the scales located on our black and white checkered tiled floor in my newly decorated bathroom and I’m beginning to resent the way I look in the mirror. So I guess this is me trying to come to terms with my recent weight gain.
Thanks to a combination of travel, eating muffins for breakfast, making my way through bars of chocolate, devouring vanilla milkshakes and being in a comfortable relationships, I have put on weight; I basically weigh the most I’ve ever weighed before. I knew with my diet and carefree attitude that gaining weight was inevitable, but I hadn’t noticed things were that bad until I came home and weighed myself in addition to a bunch of comments from family members pointing it out. I’m still a size 10 on my bottom half and an 8 on top, but to me it has become obvious that my face is a little bloated in photos, my legs are bigger and I have more rolls on my stomach than ever.
Towards the end of Australia I found it difficult to look at pictures of myself. I had many moments of disbelief, and in all honesty I felt incredibly insecure and self-conscious. My bum looked huge and the cellulite showing in the majority of any picture taken was blatantly obvious. I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been comfortable with the way I look. When I was sixteen that began to spiral out of control and the thought of trying clothes on in a changing room became my worst nightmare. Things did eventually become better and my love/hate for running to thank for that, but although I’ve never been the jealous type nor am I a person to compare, I find myself constantly comparing my body to those I see online.
This afternoon I decided to flicker through a mini photo session I did in Byron Bay a couple of months ago. Picture this: I’m wandering around the gorgeous shops in Byron Bay and I come across the most perfect striped swimsuit I can find. I excitedly hurry back to the campsite, whip the swimsuit on, head to the beach and ask Jack to take a few photos of me for Instagram. I get back, slot the SD card into my Laptop and open up the files; I was mortified. Baring in mind this is the first time I’d properly seen my body since I unknowingly gained weight.
As soon as I forgot about my body woes due to investing my time focusing on our Queensland road trip, I arrived home to see that I gained nearly two stone and the negative thoughts quickly reentered my head. It’s been a couple of weeks since my last bout of paranoia, but I think I’m slowly leaning towards acceptance. I’m nearly twenty-four, I am a woman, things change and our bodies are always evolving. I gained weight, but I had fun doing it.
I think this post is swaying towards body acceptance and how we can all change our attitudes on the way we look. I will never have the body I want, let’s be clear, I’ve been striving for this ‘perfect’ body for quite a number of years now and I’m still never happy and I never will be until I accept myself for who I am. It’s been a post where I share my mixed, strange thoughts which will hopefully have give you a bit of self confidence too. After all, it’s important that we remember that the perfect body doesn’t exist and we are who we are.