love the skin i'm in

I’ve never been good at listening to my body. I don’t pay attention to what it’s telling me about what it likes and disllikes, how well it handles this or that. It only gets my attention when it’s sick or pushed to it’s limits. That sucks! If I can’t take care of myself, how can I truly take care of anything else? How can I truly be present, where I am? It ends now. Today, I’m going to start hearing what my physical and inner self are saying about what they need to thrive. I’m gong to take control of my well-being and live, not just survive, my life.

Most people find somebody eventually right?????

right???

i’m having a low self esteem day. I saw a pic of me in my bathing suit and i just wanted to vomit. After my big speil to my friend how people should not complain about their bodies and just be happy and healthy….i’ve totally sunk into the deep end in that area. No matter how much i try it seems to never be enough. I’m tired of having an embarassing body …. and i’m tired of that keeping me down.

i just want to be happy with myself for ONCE in my life. Why is does the root of everything that makes me happy seem to come down to FAT and society.

heavier people don’t bother me….so why am i bothered to feel like one of them?

b/c guys don’t like that and i’m afraid i’ll just end being alone because i don’t have the perfect body. I’m not perfectly thin: i have hips!, I’m not strong, i’m pale, my hair isn’t voluminous, i’m not athletic, i’m clumsy etc etc.

why can’t i just be what i tell everyone else? Embrace differences etc..UGH…

why is it never enough? I eat right, i work out every day…what else can one do?

i really do think i’m pretty though…i guess i’ll just give up on my fantasy of having a swimsuit body. I’ll just have to be thankful i don’t live by the ocean.

boo and hoo

My skin, my skin is that of a mother, a wife, a bit worn from tears, My hands aren’t as soft as they once were, but the lessons are worth the wear, The stretch mark remind me of her birth, the day that God gave me someone worth dying for, wrinkles are few, but show that lifes not been a breeze that somedays I squint to see the light and somedays because it just too darn bright. There’s a small scare on my hand, not sure where it’s from, you’d think it would have hurt enough to remember, isn’t it funny how some things leave marks and you don’t even remember why, but the marks are there nevertheless.

You know it’s funny the days spent not liking my body, which is plus sized and fabulous, aren’t as many as the ones where I am smiling, and I really need to rid myself of those days, because I am so much more than my bad days. And quite frankly I would be the person I am if I was perfect.

every night I preen and prodd in front of the mirror for a few hours so the next morning I can wear a sweat shirt and a hoodie

because I can’t give love unless I learn to be in love with myself!