I feel fat and unattractive and weird-looking an awful lot.
One thing thrown up by my newfound love of working out is that I feel pretty darn disconneted to my body. These eyes, these fatty thighs, that wonky smile, the mad hair….they are part of me and yet sometimes I look in the mirror and have no idea just who is looking back. It’s like I’m trapped in a body I don’t know. And I don’t like.
But sometimes, just sometimes, there’s something I like – a curl, a dimple, a patch of smooth skin unblemished, and I think that’s worth celebrating. On this journey of getting healthy and trying to be fitter, this journey of growing and accepting and owning, I want to celebrate the victories, face the demons, and deal with all the flaws too.
So every Sunday, I shall snap a picture of myself. Might be a close up, might not, might be a foot or an elbow, or a waistcurve gradually revealing itself….but really it’s just me capturing a moment and trying to feel like less of a stranger in my own body. Here’s to the journey, I guess.