probably not the wisest thing I’ve ever done but here goes:
I’ve struggled with accepting what I look like since I could even remember. I guess I was a ‘typical’ insecure teenage girl. but I couldn’t quite put it into words how much I hated my body. no words could do that hatred justice. I convinced myself every day that no man would ever love the look of me naked - or even like the look of me full stop. I would always compare myself to girls in my year of school; because all of them just seemed to have everything I wanted.
but since (I think) turning 18, and being surrounded by such amazing people in my day-to-day life, I have managed to accept myself. I don’t think I’ll ever be fully satisfied with my stomach or my thighs of the tops of my arms; but that’s okay. no one is perfect. but I love me, and I realise that’s okay. no - that’s more than okay. because once you start loving yourself, life just becomes so much more free.