Dare to Love Yourself

Love yourself. While this might sound a bit conceited, it is one important thing we must learn in life. Because really, can you love with all your heart when you are not whole? I love reading articles about how I can love and appreciate myself more. I love articles about self-image and body issues. I love the female body--more so if it is slim, toned, gifted with long limbs, a shapely butt, and perky breasts! Think "Victoria's Secret Angels." Yeah, so unrealistic. Deep, deep down in the abyss of whatever, I still wish that I was showered with those "Goddess" traits. When I was young, resembling a budding piglet, I always thought that when I turn seventeen I'd magically transform into Barbie--long legs, little waist, tall...and so on... But my legs were still short, they grew in thickness than in length. I never made it past 5'2 1/2." I was 156 lbs, with acne and wiry hair. This was in high school, where girls started to get lots of attention form the opposite sex. I only got attention because of my size.

Looking back, I think my (then) friends didn't really care about my size or how I looked. It was all in my head. Because every morning before getting into the car, I'd look in the mirror and tell myself, "You are fat and ugly, and no one really likes you." I was an insecure teenager, a wreck about to happen.

I just stopped eating, and started to shrink. I shrank and shrank...until I was all 97 lbs at 23 years old. I thought I did it...but I still felt big...and ugly. Nothing really changed...because before I go to work, I tell myself the same thing, "You are fat and ugly, and no one really likes you."

I met a boy at work. He said he liked loved me--all of me; he said he wouldn't want to change anything about me..well, maybe the way I refused to eat...he wanted to change that. When we're together, things were okay. I seemed normal again...until he found out I still did not eat at home...or that I'd over exercise every day. Little by little, he put back the broken pieces of me together. I felt loved, adored, accepted. I started to eat again. I started to let go, a bit. And then the baby. Imagine the happiness you feel when you learn you just created a life. Ecstatic, I was. Until it hit me...I will be gaining so much weight! Honestly, the first five months was no problem. I was literally vomiting every few minutes. After those months, I was always so hungry..and I had strange cravings of baby back ribs and pizza. I know it may sound bad, but for a time I controlled what I ate. Not until the longing for a healthy baby won over anything else. And I thought it was the end with my battle against self-loathing.

I enjoyed motherhood too much, that when my baby turned five months...I realized I was still carrying an extra 10 lbs from my pregnancy. Losing it was such a tedious process, I never thought I'd win. I am impatient when it comes to end results, and this time I couldn't quit eating because I needed the energy to take care of my child. Then my husband was there to put me back together again. He made me a program which I followed for a month. I was back running everyday. I quit carbs. I started to lose the weight.

Life really has a funny way of making you realize that you have the right to be what you want to be...and no one should even care. Last April, I lost my cousin...the one who I think got me the most. The one who helps steady my emotions. She was the one who reminded me that life should be lived happily...that I shouldn't let anything or anyone get in the way. She died. I died, too. I was angry and lost. I just took up Yoga. And it channeled my anger. My anger became my strength. But the process of bending, twisting, balancing...also required me to let go. When I let go of my anger...I lost my strength. And I know I had to work on that because then, I'd be back to being broken. I do not want to lose anymore. I came this far.

I am so tired of telling myself how ugly I am, how fat I am, how ashamed I feet.Because these things stop me from accomplishing my dreams. They stop me from being happy. It needs and end so that a life full of love an potential could begin.

When my husband started to surf again, he asked me to join. We fought because I said I wasn't interested. But in reality, I was just ashamed of my body. I was terrified to wear a bikini! I was afraid to show my jelly belly, and my thunder thighs. I went with him. I tried. I wore a big rash guard and some shorts...which made me uncomfortable in the water. The big rash guard would get caught up on my knee...the shorts did not allow me to get the right stance. A waste of money just because I was ashamed of myself. But this affair with walking on water really got to me. Early this month I gave it another try, and it indeed has become an addiction. Thinking of my desire to learn to surf, I realized no one really cares...or should care. If I want to have fun, learn and be comfortable, I should be able to let go of my insecurities. So I dared myself to love me.

I bought a new set of swimwear last weekend, and I must be able to wear it in our coming trip. Not wear too big shirts, and lousy shorts! And I know I can do this...because what do I have to lose? I have a man who loves me, a daughter who adores me, and a body that created and nurtured a life. I am strong. I have this right. And while I know no one really cares, this is how I deal. I think I just wrote this to boost my confidence. So while I look nothing like these:

1

2

At least (maybe) in my husband's mind I do! Or I can pretend (in my head) too. A little love will go a long way.