We are always taught to give people a chance, to never judge at first glance and never to judge a book by its cover. As we grew older we were taught how to see the bigger picture, open our eyes to the better and to see God’s image in everybody around us. In this society it is so easy to apply these rules to just about everyone, except for ourselves. I know for sure, I never gave myself a chance. From 10 years old, I judged my thick calves and broad shoulders, disregarded them as my body and completely ignored how spectacular they are and how much they do for me. I refused to see God’s image in myself when my nose takes up half of my face and when my height intimidates people, driving them away before they even know my name. My thick, brown and frizzy hair, and curvy physique was never good enough, I was always too busy chasing what they world taught me was “perfect”, that I had no time to appreciate it all as it is and forever will be. You see, it was not entirely societies fault, but my own. I listened, I scrolled, and double tapped, I nodded my head in agreement when my aunties were telling me my breasts were getting too big, I smiled when my stomach was empty and like a sponge, I soaked up every detail of the ‘keto diet’.
At about 14 years old I lost just under 10 kilos and I cannot tell you how overwhelming it was to even leave the house. I was praised for this “achievement” from left, right and center. Everybody who knew me was impressed by the thin and malnourished child that stood before them. Throughout this time I was getting up at 5am and forced myself on the treadmill, complained when all I had to eat was some carrot sticks and cried each morning as I stood on that scale. My days were filled with disappointment and anger, until somebody complimented me and all of a sudden it felt like I was a success. I fed off of everybodies praise and at the time I thought I was doing something great, I thought this was healthy and the lifestyle I needed to fulfil.
I was wrong.
I gave up on the chase. I unplugged the treadmill and hid away my scale. I ate carrot sticks but I also ate sandwiches, and chocolate, and never failed to devour a KFC box before a 7 hour shift. I was content and finally began my search for peace, for real happiness and real success. It began by unfollowing every page that tore me down, slowly cutting negative “friends” out of my life, and only responding with “okay” to every criticising comment. I donated all clothes that were too small on me, because using them as a motivation to lose weight was and forever will be a BAD IDEA! I decided to give myself the chance I always deserved. I thanked my thick calves for giving me the ability to walk, and my broad shoulders for allowing me to use my arms every minute of everyday. I looked at my body like it was a treasure and although having it for 16 years, it felt like I had only just found it.
Unfortunately, it isn’t always a good day. There are days that I can look in the mirror and adore what stares back at me, and there are days my head hangs low in disappointment. Never do I let these harder days bring me down because I am too busy reminding myself how far I have come and how far I have to go. My life is now a journey and I travel with my head high, walking at my own pace and stopping to take breaks when I need it. I maintain a healthy lifestyle and enjoy the luxuries of being able to live. I use this great, loud voice to partake in such a movement. The movement of self acceptance, celebrating ourselves and others for our differences and finally opening societes eyes to their true worth!
I am now 17 years old, living such an imperfect life, with flaws that do not define me, and a body, that at last I can say, is more than just good enough. My eyes are opened to see the bigger picture, to look beyond what meets the eye and finally seeing God’s image in myself.
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