Learning to Love Myself (pt. 1)

This is an insanely personal post, but I’m tired of holding it in.

All cards are on the table now, I hope this helps someone who needs it.

Pt. 1

The first time I remember feeling guilty about my weight, I was 9 years old. I was ridiculed for being chubby, I was embarrassed by family constantly saying I would grow out of it. But they never made comments about my male cousins.

When I was 12,boys at school never said it to my face, but they made jokes about my weight and I would hear them snicker at lunchtime.

At age 14, I decided to take matters into my own hands. As a freshman in high school, you’re willing to do anything to fit in.


My eating was disordered.

My weight slowly inched, my self esteem quickly fell.

Fuck counting numbers, I counted calories.

I spent more time next a porcelain bowl, then I did studying, or with my friends.

I was thrown into a whirlwind of sadness and I became quickly desensitized to feeling anything.

I mean that was my only choice, It was a my way of survival.


I became so infatuated with being thin, health didn’t matter. I never made it to a goal weight, but I ruined myself. I destroyed my stomach and my nails became brittle. I hated doctors and would never allow myself to see nutritionists.

I was sick, but I refused to tell anyone, solely because I wasn’t “sick enough to have an eating disorder”.

When you think of that you immediately think of bone thin beings with paper skin and shallow cheek bones.

But a disorder doesn’t discriminate. A disorder makes a host out of any body it latches itself onto. 

What deteriorated most wasn’t my physical appearance, it was my mind. 

I lost sight of everything that had once been important. I was terrified. And I hated who I was.I lived life wishing and praying I was someone else, under other circumstances, in a different situation.


However, this is not a glorification of my sadness or my pain, this is an understanding that everything I went through, was necessary for me to be who I am today.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, despite my many attempts to ignore it.

Opening up to someone is the most terrifying thing to ever do. It is also the most important and rewarding experience.

Feeling like nothing for 5 years is mutilating to your emotional, spiritual, and physical being. Learning to let go of things and forgive yourself saved me and many others like me. 

Hearing people’s stories and then sharing your own is such a powerful experience.

You regain everything you may have lost.

Loving yourself is not an easy thing to do, especially now, but it’s time to regain your sense of self and purpose. Its the most indescribable, incredible feeling.


*Pt 1 of the series “learning to love myself”*

my whole heart and soul,

matenia ❤


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