Every mark, every scar, every cellulite has their own story.

I try to look at myself in the mirror every morning with a smile. Sometimes it's easier, sometimes it's harder.


These stretch marks are a reminder of the abuse I've put my body through. I've always been chubby as a kid. Always picked on for my weight.
First time I thought of suicide was in middle school. All I wanted was to be loved. All I wanted was people to like me. And I though that if I became thin they would like me and then they would stop picking on me. If I couldn't be thin I didn't want to live.
I'm not religious but I prayed every night that if I only could get thin like the pretty girls I would never eat candy again, or I would never be mean. I just wanted to be thin. And pretty. 10 years old and my biggest dream was to be thin.
I've been fighting these demons for my whole life.

After I got sick 3,5 years ago I gained a lot of weight. I didn't allow people to take pictures of me and I felt sorry for myself because of my weight. I had been working so hard on getting thin and losing weight and then all the weight came back. I thought it was so unfair. Why did I have to get this disease? Why did this happen to me? I hadn't reached my thin goal yet. But then, 3 years ago, I told myself enough is enough.
I'm healthy. I'm happy. I have people who love me and support me regarding my weight. They love me for me so why couldn't I love myself for me?
So I started every morning in front of the mirror looking at myself naked. In the beginning I cried. I wanted to run away. But I kept going. I stood there. Naked. Day after day. I tried to focus on what I liked about my body rather than what I didn't like. It was so hard but I'm stubborn and I really wanted to see what everyone else saw in me so I just stood there. Sometimes just a couple of seconds, sometime a couple of minutes. And it worked. 3 years later I start every morning in the mirror smiling at myself and giving myself, and my body, the love that we deserve.

All bodies have a story to tell. Every mark, every scar, every cellulite has their own story.
So this is me with my stretch marks that reminds me that being thin did not make me happier, but being healthy and self loving actually do



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