War of the Words

A lot of you guys are going to know this, but just in case I'm going to explain a bit about my current health situations. I'm Kelly, and I'm mentally ill. I'm currently in recovery for an eating disorder, and am being treated for depression, several anxiety disorders and a few other bits and pieces. I've been in and out of therapy since I was 14, and I deal with a lot of crap on a daily basis because of my stuff.

Last night I wrote a small post on my personal blog about how I was struggling with my ED recovery in relation to how I look, and not really feeling like anyone around me liked the way I looked. I wasn't really expecting a response, other than maybe someone to offer to let me vent to them as I have amazing friends on here that are always willing to listen when I have my moments. Instead I got a bunch of compliments about the photos on my blog and on my instagram. I was super, super overwhelmed. I was surprised and shocked and wasn't sure what to say other than thank you. But the later on I started doubting them. Making excuses and reasons for myself so that I wouldn't believe a handful of the not very many compliments I've ever had on my looks.

RIght now I'm in the process of removing my filter. That's what I'm calling the way I've been taught to see the world, which is to see the world through the idea that I am worth very little. To think that my weight is the thing that is stopping me from being accepted and loved and happy. To think that my value is nothing if my body is still like this. But that was a lie. It was a lie that was taught to me through years abuse from someone who should have been looking after me, and it's a lie that I have been believing for a very, very long time. 

I am worth more than my looks. I am worth more than a number or a size. My body's value is not in it's beauty. My body's value is in that it has saved my life, several times. My body has protected me and saved me and looked after me more than anyone else every has. It's kept me alive through all of the crap I've put it through, and it's stayed strong when my mind was entirely broken. 

But I don't think it's unreasonable to also want to feel attractive. I don't think it's wrong to also want to feel lovely and strong and kind and beautiful, all at the same time. And I think the worst lie that I've ever told myself is that I cannot be both myself and be beautiful. That I cannot be both strong and kind. That I cannot be both mentally and physically at peace. Because I can. I can be beautiful and fat and strong and wobbly and soft and harsh and at peace every other thing that I want to be.

Sometimes it's hard to swallow that. When you've spent a very long time believing something, that belief doesn't disappear. And when you live in a culture where wonderful girls are taught they aren't enough until they are a size X, then girls who are a size X are taught they aren't enough until they are the next thing or the next thing or the next thing, it can be tough to look in the mirror and see a body that so many people would deem 'unacceptable.' 

And because of this, I'm going to take every single genuine compliment and I'm going to cherish it. I'm going to stop closing my eyes because it's easier to hate myself than fight society and every word my mother ever said to me. Instead I'm going to have my eyes and my ear wide open and I'm to take every nice word that is given to me and I'm going to write it out. And then I'm going to post it on my wall or my wardrobe or anywhere else that it will be visible and where it will be seen. This is still a battle and these words are going to be part of my weaponry.