This is almost a four year difference.
I’ve struggled with eating for the longest time .
I remember how fat I thought i looked whenever I took the picture on the left too. But fat shouldn’t be used as an insult and it had taken me a really long time but I’m slowly learning to love my body . I might not be the skinniest now but I respect myself as much as I can and even though sometimes I struggle with this still I’m doing okay. You’ll be okay too.


The picture on the left was 2 years ago.

The picture on the right was 2 weeks ago.

I remember thinking I was happy when the picture on the left was taken. I thought I had a lot since I was skinny. I could wear tiny clothes and I was beautiful because I was skinny. But the truth is, I was not happy. I was completely isolated in my own world of running and eating as little as possible. I had no friends. I was hungry and sad and tired. Being skinny wasn’t happy and fun - skinny was not being able to go on waterslides because my spine was bony and it hurt, skinny was not being able to sleep on my side because my knee bones pressed together, skinny was my hair was thin and brittle, my nails were flaky, I was cold all the time, skinny was staying up late at night thinking about food because I was so hungry

Two years of recovery later, including gaining weight, I can say that I am HAPPY. It is a long path of ups and downs and relapse; some days are self-love and some, not so much. But I am happy and I am healthy and I eat everyday and I have energy to do all the things I love! I surround myself with other happy and healthy people. I enjoy food and company and I enjoy living. 

I love myself. I am proud of myself. I am strong, happy, and healthy. Everyone deserves to feel these things - everyone is beautiful in the body that makes them feel happy and allows them to do the things they enjoy and love life! Please go out each day and find something great in life and enjoy food and love yourself - you have one amazing life to live, so you might as well live it happy!!:)


Before, hair, and after,BALD!

Finally took the plunge and shaved my head bald after years of wanting to but not having the courage to, primarily due to what others would say an think. But I finally came to the realization that it’s only hair, and if I want to shave it all off then there’s absolutely nothing or nobody stopping me. Soon a whim I went into my bathroom with the clippers, razor and shaving cream and before I could talk myself out of it I took the guard off the clippers, switched them on and ran them right down the middle of my hair leaving me no option but to finish the job. After removing what I could with the clippers, I lathered up my head and with a brand new razor proceeded to shave the remaining stubble off leaving my head completely smooth! And I LOVE it! It honestly feels absolutely amazing, I highly, highly recommend it!

I haven’t been this happy in myself for years and years.

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Trigger Warning for measurements

24 yrs, 5 feet, 150 lbs, dress size 10

Two hours before this photo was taken, I was standing in the shower crying my eyes out wishing my mother were alive to tell me how beautiful I was. Instead my fiancé was nervously standing outside the shower stall reassuring me that I was not a disgusting blob of a human being who did not deserve his love. I felt such self-loathing because six months after purchasing my dress, it would not zip up all the way.

I could go on about how as I child I was taunted on a regular basis about my weight and how it has negatively affected my self-image, but the sad fact is I am still being taunted to this day. Only now it’s the endless bridal magazines that only feature women who are 50 pounds lighter and a foot taller than me. It’s the middle-aged women at my work that are constantly giving me weight loss tips without having asked for them. It’s my personal trainer reminding me that they can take my dress in two sizes when I have made it clear my ultimate goal is health, not weight loss. It’s my grandma who was adamant that I should not get a wedding dress one size up to be more comfortable because six months is a long time to lose 10 pounds. 

WELL GUESS WHAT SOCIETY! I HAVE CURVES AND THEY ARE DAMN SEXY. Why is it that on the happiest day of my life I should be a starving skeleton like version of myself? I want to be round and soft so I can embrace my family and friends with an abundance of my being. Why are women expected to look like coat racks and give their wedding dresses all the attention? I am wearing my wedding, my dress it is not wearing me. 

I just really want to know, who decided that becoming a bride means giving permission to be scrutinized by society? Being a bride, does not give you permission to talk about my weight. There is this revolutionary concept that all women are allowed to love the bodies they have and not be expected to want to change them to reflect your narrow definition of beauty. 


This is a bit of a rambling about how incredibly happy I am that I started hooping. Hooping was my gateway drug to the world of movement and fitness. Hooping allowed me to discover the healing power of endorphins (and the whole cocktail of other feel-good chemicals that are released in your body when you move). It showed me what it feels like to be truly grounded in my body, and later taught me to love my body. 

Life before then was such a chore. I battled depression for most of my life which eventually led to an eating disorder in my late teens. All of my experience thus far was in a bag of skin, bones, fat, and organs that I resented with every fiber of my being. 

Hooping changed all of that. Hooping reminded me that I am a beautiful and wonderful being, worthy of all the joys of movement. It revealed the bliss of moving to the beat of my favorite songs. The hoop showed me that I was capable of learning and teaching myself with every new move that I tried. It was my first step away from the fear of an active lifestyle, towards trusting my own body’s intelligence.

And then it did so much more than that. I went to spin jams, festivals, and retreats. I met some of the most beautiful people that shared the same interests as me; people that were (and still are) totally loving, welcoming, and nonjudgemental. I met teachers that encouraged me to dance my own dance. I met instructors that pushed me to try new things that I didn’t know I was capable of. I met life coaches who taught me self love by example. I plunged whole-heartedly into the world of ecstatic dance. 

Hooping was my primary fitness outlet for years, but then it became easier and less of an intense cardiovascular workout for me. I craved more. I started running ( an activity that I claimed “just isn’t for me” for years ). Now training for a half-marathon, I experience the exhilarating feeling of pushing myself through walls to get to that runners’ high. In these experiences I train the voice in my head to say, “This is hard, but you can do this. You are doing this. You are strong and capable.” Tears of joy have streamed down my face multiple times on long runs when I am literally overflowing with palpable bliss. I really can’t believe that I’ve come this far. 

Now - in addition to my hooping and running - I find myself doing daily handstands and juggling practice. I find myself craving less time seated and more time doing. I am practicing yoga a few times a week. One little step at a time, I am transforming into an active person. With each step it gets easier and easier for me to love myself because I am taking care of my body and what it wants. My body does not want to be curled up in front of a computer screen 6+ hours per day. My body wants to move. My body wants to experience the world. When I give my body what it wants, it is much easier to be happy. And when my body is happy, it is so much easier to love my body. 

For the people that are at rock bottom, that are having trouble finding the love that is the fuel to the fire of life, it is okay. It gets better. I have been there (and occasionally go back there on weeks that I forget to take care of myself). Remember that you are an incredible specimen that is the product of millions of years of evolution and try to do what your body wants you to do. Play with others. Do something that makes your heart sing. Nourish yourself. You are so worth it <3 


I realized a few things today.
One- I hate going to bars. They’re fun when you’re focused on your friends but once i look around and see all the other girls I start getting self conscious. I think maybe I’m not wearing enough makeup. Or maybe I only look good with makeup. Or maybe they’re just lucky and I’m not.

Two- I thought I looked damn good before I left the house. Strange, then, that I look in the mirror now and feel sad and unattractive. And funny, because while it usually takes makeup to feel attractive, I’ve had days where I don’t touch my face and I think “damn girl, you’re fine”

You want the truth? Your face doesn’t change. Ever. Even makeup won’t transform you that much. You have a moment where you love how you look? Good! Don’t forget that, because THAT is the truth. Makeup or none. (Heck my boyfriend can’t tell the difference when I wear makeup, so it can’t change me that much) Any moment where you feel less than that? Shoot, somethings off with your mindset, you saw how good you looked earlier! It’s your mind it’s not your face.

Now go own your day, you look great. <3

(Ps just because it’s still a struggle, adding a picture to prove my point to myself. Thought I looked good here and obviously the month or so that’s passed since this picture hasn’t changed me, therefore although I’m feeling off tonight, hey in reality I still must look the same)


Ripping your life back from anorexia is a truly horrific and terrifying experience, yet it such a beautiful thing to rise back to the top after losing absolutely everything, including yourself.

I posted to this blog back when I was weight restored and had assumed that I was recovered because of that. In reality, I had just begun my journey of self-love and self-acceptance. That was two years ago. Here I am after thousands of “relapse-recover” trail-and-errors. Still standing. Still smiling. Still fighting.

I feel like I’ve finally learned what I needed to. I am not my eating disorder, desperately trying to get a foothold in my life wherever possible. I am not my body, which is a beautiful vessel that functions solely as a tangible extension of my soul. I am not any of the numbers I once defined myself by. I am an honours student. I am a graduate. I am a yogi. I am an ice cream enthusiast. I am a Math expert. I am loving and I am alive and I am human.

The moral of the story is, for all of you who have suffered with an eating disorder, body dysmorphia, poor self-esteem, bad body-image, and everything in between, you are not just beautiful: You are so much more than that. Don’t let yourself be defined by beauty because it’s arbitrary and transient, let yourself be defined by how loud you can laugh, the crinkles by your eyes when you smile. You are the things you love to do, the kind things you do for yourself and for others. You are so much more than beautiful. Just remember that you have trillions of cells fighting you keep you alive.

I think you should start fighting for yourself too. (x)



This beautiful and intelligent girl wrote a very inspiring poem in response to Nash Grier’s video “What Guys Look For In Girls”. It shows just how ridiculous and harmful society’s standards of beauty and perfection are. It delivers an important message that more people need to hear.


Hi, my name is Madeline and I am a professional photographer and retoucher. The photo on the left is a RAW image of me from a shoot with a friend, utilizing makeup and a professional studio lighting setup. The middle is the same photo with basic skin smoothing and coverups in photoshop. The right is the most heavily retouched and includes liquefying and altering features either to emphasize or minimize certain aspects of my face. This in total took about 10 minutes for me to edit. Although it is not a dramatic, unrecognizable change it is a significant one. “Perfect” skin, even tone, exaggerated eyes, and most importantly- alterations that would often go unnoticed on someone’s dashboard and perhaps pass for unedited. One thing that always really gets to me on tumblr is how often a certain ideal is held up through supposedly candid shots that are obviously manipulated in Photoshop, often to more extreme measures that this image. This distorts expectations/reality when it comes to appearance and self image, and what I’ve learned as a retoucher is that literally everyone is imperfect, and that is completely beautiful. Even the most gorgeous models I’ve worked with have uneven skin tone, asymmetric features, or other “flaws” like body hair and blemishes. These, as well as the decidedly not glamorous side effects of malnutrition, are waved away by Photoshop. Natural, beautiful parts of a body are smoothed over with blended and borrowed pixels just for the crime of perceived inconsistency and maintaining unrealistic, impossible standards. It’s important to be aware of the distortion taking place, and always second guess what is being portrayed as reality in an image. This is as true in fashion magazine as it is on you tumblr dashboard. Learning more about photography and retouching has helped me begin to overcome my own eating disorder and come to grips with my distorted self image while providing an artistic outlet. Feel free to stop by my tumblr if you want to talk more.


I’ve tried literally fucking e v e r y t h i n g and now my last resort is accutane so a) wish me luck getting it because it’s really hard to find a derm I can see with my insurance during the week when I don’t have classes and b) wish me luck being on it if I can start taking it (hopefully asap)

I’m so insecure about my acne. It’s been cystic before and was worse and then got a little bit better after I started the pill but it never got totally better. Now it’s starting to get bad again and I’m afraid it’s going to start getting cystic again. Everyone around me has beautiful, clear skin and can wear makeup and such and even go to bed without washing their faces…Here I am taking excellent care of my body in terms of my skin, cleaning it enough but not too much, keeping in moisturized, watching the products I use…I take such good care of my skin but it doesn’t reflect that at all. It doesn’t feel fair at all but it’s all hormonal (you can see that too definitely in the location near the chin/cheeks where it shows up, telltale sign it’s only hormonal), and I have such wonderful soft, hydrated, clear skin e v e r y w h e r e else on my body except my face. 

Also, not to mention: if not to make my insecurities worse…ALL my relatives say to me is how bad my skin is. Without me asking for their fucking opinion or anything. They just assume it’s okay to comment on my acne. My half-sister even edited my face in her holiday pictures this year so that my acne wouldn’t show up in her pictures!! (And didn’t ask me first or afterwards about it just posted them and I found out myself). How rude and mean!! Like I fucking know my skin is bad and makes me ugly as fuck I’m not blind so go fuck yourself!!

Anyways…TLDR, if you have nice skin, please be thankful and take good care of it!! Also wish me luck please, send me good vibes, I honestly have prayed for clear skin. It’s been years now and I am so done. I just want to be comfortable with the face I have, both physically and psychologically (if acne wasn’t bad enough on the mind and for the self-image, imagine how fucking BAD it actually HURTS too on your face if you’ve never had bad acne!!) 

And if you tend to avoid people because of their acne or acne scars then please be more conscious of it. I really do believe having acne has really shot down any chance of me being asked out/flirted with tbh lol. People with acne or acne scars are just as beautiful and healthy if not even MORE healthy than people with absolutely perfect clear skin! Acne =/= bad health, bad hygiene, bad diet, unattractiveness, laziness, ugliness, apathy about one’s appearance, uncleanliness, etc in any way! 

Thank you for reading this rant, spread the love for body positivity in people who have acne problems! xx


Okay so this isn’t really a long one but here. My name is Matt and honestly, I have hated my body for as long as i can remember. Up until this year, at least. Even in elementary people would say i had no friends because i was fat, or ugly, or just stupid. Saddest part about it is that i believed them. They were right about me not having friends, so maybe it was because of that reason. This all led me to believe the worst. I felt so uncomfortable in my skin. Wide hips and stretch marks. I had seen so many “perfect” people in advertisements and TV shows perfect was modified and i looked so different from that. I believed everyone from elementary school and daycare and all the places where i heard i was fat ugly and stupid up until this school year. I have met so many wonderful people and I do have friends now. Wonderful friends. I’ve become so much more comfortable in my skin and can actually go out more often without worrying if people are looking at me because i’m ugly. Because I’m not ugly. I’m comfortable and that’s beautiful. 


On the left photo, I was thinking I was happy as I was, but I truly hated my body, it was not my own best friend. 
On the middle one, it was better, I had just started to understand what my body was trying to say to me for so long “love yourself just as you are”.
On the right one, I can stay that I’m happy in every sense of the term, I love my body with its flaws because nobody can be perfect. We have to love who we are, we have just one body for our all life, we have to accept the fact that we are beautiful inside and out. Trust me, you will be so much happier with this in your mind, be kind to yourself, to your body, it deserves the best.


Who says fat girls can’t wear short shorts?

I love this pair I got from forever21(I believe it was around 10 bucks)! They are super comfy and came in a lot of different patterns.

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This morning, as I struggled to do up a skirt that fit me loosely just a couple of months ago, I looked at myself and broke down in tears. I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror, and couldn’t see anything positive staring back at me. When I have frustrations and low points, it tends to spiral out of control with thoughts of, and fixations on, all the things I dislike about myself and how I look. At work I am surrounded by girls who I consider prettier, skinnier and nicer than me (though I am sure struggle with their own battles of self-worth). Talk often turns to food, diets, calories, makeup, hair, sex, plastic surgery and how they look or don’t look. I find my daily life triggering and damaging to my mental health. Even those who I trust enough to open up to about my weight struggles often unintentionally damage any good work I did that day by giving me “advice” that is harmful rather than helpful.

After a day of feeling tearful merely from catching my reflection in the computer screen, I drove home in tears, ready to weigh myself and see the damage. I berated myself over and over, failing to see how flogging myself on these scales was doing nothing to help. 6 months ago I hated how I looked, and now here I was, saying to myself that I’d do anything to be that skinnier girl. Yet when I was her, I was wishing to be another “skinnier version” of myself. A cruel, vicious cycle that I was falling for again, and again. How different it would be if I had just loved myself how I was in that body, back then, with no guilt…

I stopped crying, looked at myself in the mirror face-on, and realised that what I should be crying over was my lack of self-love. I was regretting not liking who I was when I was a little bit skinnier, but only in hindsight. I realised I needed to love the person I am now - the extra weight included - or 6 months from now I would be one step along in this cycle. The weight irrelevant, but the mental pain a stone more intense as the guilt moves up a level.

A sudden wave of positivity came over me. I brushed my hair. I topped up my makeup. I put on a matching pair of underwear, and I took this photo.

I have never, ever taken a photo of myself in my underwear. I have no idea what compelled me to do so. I just knew I wanted to see myself in a state other than hidden and upset. In a way that others see me. I wanted to open that door for myself, instead of avoiding eye contact with my own body.

I was so sure I would hate myself. So sure I would instantly delete it and crawl under the covers. But I didn’t. I felt cute. I felt attractive. Neck fat, belly rolls, red marks where my skirt had been digging into me… all of it. It turns out that I liked the photo because of those things, not despite them.

I saw more in this photo of me in that moment than just a confident girl not scared to show off her body. I saw everything I have achieved up until this point in time. I saw strength and beauty and intelligence and honesty and courage. I am proud of the me in that picture, and the me who took it.

Not every day will result in a feeling of positivity like this. Not every day will bring me to a good place. But I am working on cultivating a feeling of inner happiness that is influenced less by circumstance or things around me, and I will not give up on my fight to love my body despite the world telling me not to. I will continue to push back hard on the feelings that weigh us down.

I hope you have the energy to push back today. But if you don’t, it’s okay. Try again tomorrow. You’re doing just fine. Your body will wait, and it will accept your love when you are ready and feel strong enough to give it.