Image

This is my first attempt at any kind of poetry – today was a little roller coaster in terms of my image. I have run and been to the gym for 5 days in a row now, so I thought I would have a rest day. I also have a fitbit, which is amazing, until my calorie counting goes wrong. I have a tendency to overthink about it, and as soon as I go over my calorie target I feel I have failed and get all kinds of negative.

So a day off exercise and counting was needed – but everyone suffering from this type of thing will understand it isn’t that straight forward. I am not diagnosed with any kind of eating disorder, I have never sought help for it. What I do know is that my eating is disordered to an extent, sometimes it stays in the background, but mostly not. It’s always a thought, a fear of gaining weight and not being in proportion, not eating too much, if I do I need to exercise. I must earn it. I need to have control or I can almost see myself gain weight infront of my eyes. 

Unfortunately, today ended in a little binge. I didn’t count calories today so it didn’t count right? I count and I get obsessed, I don’t count and I relax too much. I don’t know how to win this fight, so my aim nowadays is to balance the days until I work it out.

I am of average weight – but carry my weight more on my thighs and I have a big butt (I actually know this for sure, my thighs however are dependent on how I feel that day). I gym a lot most of the time and have recently got into running. But I have been told I don’t see my body for what is it. I do know, that when I look in the mirror, my eyes go straight to my thighs, almost growing bigger the more I look. I don’t know what’s real.

 

Anyway, here goes, my first attempt at getting out a little of my feelings into poetry:

 

 

When did my flaws become all I can see,

this body of mine, my carrier of life,

capable of doing so many things,

being punished for the things it can’t do, or the things it will never be.

 

When, in the heat of August, through water fights,

and beach visits did I decide I was not worthy of shorts or tops with no sleeves,

that my legs were somehow grotesque,

and I had to hide myself away in fear of sight and mocking of family and friends.

 

Why does no one mention my abnormal thighs,

or wide arms,

or belly rolls,

or do I just not hear them, or see them stare.

 

Why can I see everyone else’s faults so beautifully and unique,

telling them that they’re perfect and they wear them so well,

You don’t need to change, it makes you who you are!

when really I’m the biggest hypocrite of all, crying after pulling at folds of skin, wishing I was anyone but me.

 

There are days, weeks when it is easier, when I count calories and run and I catch my reflection,

and I feel my success, my collarbones and hips protruding proudly,

I feel healthy, normal, balanced, content,

Content with who I am, able to see myself without the gleam of hatred in my eye.

 

Why does my body look different one day to the next,

It’s in your head my dear, you need to remember, on dark days,

your legs, arms, stomach,

they are normal, healthy, in proportion.

 

But the following day, a slip,

I slip,

and I slip into the darkness,

You’re not worth anything,

You can’t even stop yourself,

You’ll always be the same,

You’ll never be happy,

Why did you eat that,

Why didn’t you run today.

 

When will it click,

this problem,

this battle,

is not with my body.

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