Living With Body Dysmorphia

Like many children, I started out skinny. Looking back at pictures of when I was a little girl, I had the cute belly and always ran around without a shirt. I was a daddy's girl and just wore shorts like he did. My mom was always on top of staying in shape. She had a whole routine where she'd excerise in front of the television. I used to mock her because some of her exercising were yoga poses.

As I started going through puberty, I became very picky about what I ate. I drank a lot of cokes and ate a lot of sweets, but I was still active. It didn't matter, I was gaining weight. In fifth grade, I was already 145 pounds. I felt embarassed. I was getting picked on. In sixth grade, my best friend who was a similar size to me lost A LOT of weight. That's when I really started to feel down. My older sister was smaller than me and now my best friend was smaller than me. My dad was making jokes about my weight and so were several others. So, I asked my mom for advice. She told me to start doing sit ups, eat better, and drink water. So, I started. The sit ups helped shape my body and the water made me feel a lot better. I even started sneaking weight loss pills.

But I was still gaining weight.

I heard a lot of, "You're pretty... in your own way."

"You're beautiful on the inside."

I was 174 pounds at my eighth grade physical. I was pretty upset. I was constantly weighing myself. I was going outside. I was really trying to lose weight and look like all the other girls. Everyone kept telling me I looked great the way I was, but I couldn't see that same image in the mirror. I was a big girl, weighing over 120 pounds.

In ninth grade, I weighed 185 pounds. For some reason, I didn't really care. I was happy. I was going out and wearing short dresses. I still looked in the mirror and cringed at my own appearance, but I ignored it, until the guy I was with started watching porn. My unhealthy behaviors began to kick in again. Later, my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer. She had surgery and lost A LOT of weight. She lost the baby weight she had from my twin brothers. She was 140 pounds and asking for my clothes. I felt bad for being jealous, but I couldn't deny it. My mom had her own battle with weight all her life and she felt happy for losing it. I started taking weight loss pills again. I added more to my workout routine. But my mom was starting to get worse and she needed me. For her, I started taking care of the household and taking care of my younger siblings. With the stress from my mom being sick and watching my siblings, I did start losing weight. But I couldn't tell. My thighs still looked huge and my stomach had this butt thing going on, which it still does to this day.

As I got older, I was losing more weight. I was 140 pounds at 5'5". But according to health charts, that is still overweight. Seriously? I looked sick. I was constantly exercising and eating less. I was taking pills to do the "Sleeping Beauty." I was terrible to my body. I was wearing long sleeves and pants in the summer to hide my arm and legs. I would measure my waist (I still find myself doing this today).

I was with a boy who was smaller than I was in weight and was told that we don't look right because I was huge compared to him while I was looking so sick.

When I graduated from high school and got engaged, I started gaining the weight back. I got to 195 pounds and was surprised and depressed. How could this have happened? What have I done? I still drink water. I choose the lowest calories off the menus. I looked like a whale in the mirror. Everything just looked so HUGE. I had to make a change.

I started exercising differently. I started eating less. I was constantly checking my weight left and right. I was constantly looking in the mirror, sucking in, thinking why I couldn't be smaller. I felt like a prisoner to society's standards.

When I got my job as a housekeeper for a nursing home, I started losing weight. I went from 195 pounds to 165 pounds and that is where I've stayed. I still look in the mirror. I still check my weight. I try to go out of my comfort zone and wear crop tops and bikinis.

But I feel gross.

I don't feel skinny.

I don't feel pretty.

Everyone tells me I am beautiful and I look healthy. My husband tells me every day. But I look at my appearance and I am uncomfortable. My thighs are still big. I still have this weird-looking stomach. My body just looks wrong. I wonder why I can't see what everyone else can see.

I hardly eat sometimes still. I'll drink a lot of coffee to stay energetic from how tired I feel from the effects of not eating. My family always asks if I'm dieting and why I don't eat. I try to take care of my body instead of punishing it, but sometimes I get irritated that I don't have the perfect metabolism and don't look like the girls on television and social media.

Body dysmorphia is a curse I was given and my only hope is to overcome it. Some days, I DO feel beautiful. I don't give a damn what ny body looks like. Other days, I'll change clothes multiple times because I don't look good in anything. I'll wear baggy clothes to hide in. I'll look in the mirror and start grabbing at that fat I can't seem to get rid of. I'll do my usual sigh and just feel defeated. I am consumed by the fear of weight gain and I don't even know why. So many women look just as beautiful big as they do small, but for me, I can only believe that I am beautiful and wonderful if I am small. Weight has become my personality, a personality I never wanted to have.

It is a difficult challenge I have dealt with since I was a little girl and maybe will someday be the challenge I conquer. I don't want to pass this on to my future daughter or son. I don't want the people around me to worry about me anymore. I just want to be comfortable in my own skin and there's nothing wrong with that.