I’ve struggled with my body image for as long as I can remember. Growing up, I always felt different, uncomfortable in my own skin, and unsure of where I fit in. For years, I believed that something was wrong with me because I didn’t look the way society expected me to or how the other girls around me looked. My body, my weight, my relationship with food it all became tangled in my mind, shaping not only how I saw myself but also how I approached relationships, my self-worth, and my life in general.
The Beginning of the Struggle
The earliest memory I have of feeling “fat” is from when I was 9 or 10 years old. It was during a swimming lesson, and I remember putting on my swimming costume and feeling like my body was out of place. My boobs felt too big for the costume, and I couldn’t help but compare myself to the other girls. Why didn’t their bodies look like mine? Why did I feel so exposed? Even at that age, I felt like my body was already so different, so much more developed than the other girls. That was the moment when I started becoming self-conscious, and it only got more complicated from there.
Then came the day I got my period. I was one of the first in my class to get it, and I vividly remember the embarrassment of staining my school uniform and having to tie my sweater around my waist to hide it. My body was changing, and I felt completely out of control. I knew something was different, and not in a good way. I wasn’t skinny, and I looked older than the other girls because my body was developing faster. It made me feel isolated, like I didn’t belong.
At 14, I was sent to a boarding school, where everything changed. The diet was different, the routines were different, and I started losing weight. At first, I felt great about it. I loved how I looked in the mirror, and it gave me a sense of control. But that sense of control soon spiraled into obsession. I took things too far and started starving myself. In fact, things got so bad that I fainted during assembly because of low blood sugar. One of my teachers had to intervene and force me to eat. But the weight obsession continued.
In high school, I couldn’t stop my body from changing. My chest kept growing, and no matter what I did, I always felt top-heavy. My self-esteem plummeted. I wore baggy clothes to hide my body, walked with my back hunched, and tried everything I could to cover up. I felt so uncomfortable, and my fashion sense was non-existent. I hated the way I looked.
University was a bit better, but the issues were still there. I struggled with my fashion sense and continued battling my weight. I interned while in school, and the physical activity, combined with cutting out sugar, helped me lose weight. I felt better about myself, but I still wasn’t completely comfortable. Even when my weight was better controlled, I still avoided showing my arms or wearing anything that would expose my body. I was constantly hiding.
After university, I wasn’t as big, but my insecurities persisted. I still avoided wearing clothes that would make me feel confident. In 2019, I found intermittent fasting (IF), and for the first time in a long while, I felt in control. I lost weight, my clothes fit better, and I felt good in my skin. But it didn’t last. Since then, my weight has yo-yoed. I’ve tried IF again, but it hasn’t stuck. And when I started working from home, things took a turn for the worse. Without the daily movement, I began gaining weight again. I bought a stationary bike, but it barely gets used.
Food as a Crutch
Now, I find myself in a bad place. My weight gain has left me feeling unhappy and unmotivated. None of my clothes fit me, and I’m constantly avoiding mirrors, pictures, and any situation where I might be looked at. The stress of my current life situation only adds to my emotional eating. I’m a stress eater, and I struggle with idleness. When I’m stressed or even happy, food becomes my comfort. It’s the one thing that soothes me when everything else feels out of control.
I’ve even started to consider extreme measures—surgery, diet pills, anything to get the weight off. I’m in a place where I don’t want to leave my house or go out with friends. The thought of being seen by others feels unbearable.
I’ve been trying to fast lately, but honestly… it never lasts long. Some days I take walks, just to feel like I’m doing something, but the truth is I’m not in the best place right now. I haven’t stepped on a scale or measured myself in months. I’m even avoiding the hospital because deep down, I’m almost certain what the tests will say: diabetic.
What I really want is for things to go back to “normal,” whatever that means anymore. I just want a starting point, a place where I can figure out the next step without feeling so overwhelmed. Recently, I’ve been toying with the idea of trying one of those trendy weight-loss injections everyone’s talking about the ones that quiet the constant food noise. I feel like it could give me the jumpstart I need. But like most things, it comes down to money. And for money, I need a steady income… which I don’t have right now. So that plan will have to wait.
For now, I’m focusing on the basics. Staying “active” in small ways. Eating at least two proper meals a day. It sounds simple, but when you’re stuck at home all day with snacks whispering your name, it’s harder than you’d think.
But here’s the surprising part the tiny light in the middle of this fog. I recently learned my actual body shape and how to dress for it. It sounds superficial, but something shifted in me when I started wearing clothes that flattered my figure. I began to look in the mirror and see me, not just my insecurities. It gave me a small boost of confidence I didn’t know I needed.
I’m still not all the way there. I still have days when I don’t feel beautiful or motivated. But I’m trying to learn how to love myself at every size, at every stage. Some days, that love feels like a whisper. Other days, it’s louder. But either way… I’m listening
...THROUGH MY EYES ✨ 