Too fat for love?
That’s the question I’ve asked myself since I was just a little girl.
Was I truly unlovable just because of the way I looked? And if so, was I at least worthy of being liked? Or even just of being respected?
For a long time, I didn’t think I had the right to ask for any of those things from people. I looked around at all my peers growing up, and I knew deep down that I was different. People would always say I was old for my age, both in mind and body, and it really affected me. I grew up fast, and as such, I got to a stage where I was plagued by body insecurities at a much younger age than most people would expect. When you are hyper-aware of the way you look, you can’t just relax into being yourself, because you start to overanalyse everything that you do. I stood out visually, so I started to try and counterbalance that by blending in through other means. I began to shut down; I stopped voicing my opinions quite so loudly and I began to be more affected by other people’s opinions of me, always looking for approval from others. In short, I lost myself.
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