“We obsess over insecurities about rolls and stretch marks and cellulite when the truth is we are insecure about LIFE—about feeling safe, and taken care of, and loved.”
I don't think, at the end of the day, it's just about our bodies. I think they are the vessels of our pain. We obsess over insecurities about rolls and stretch marks and cellulite when the truth is we are insecure about LIFE--about feeling safe, and taken care of, and loved. Someone somewhere hurt us deeply, or didn't love us enough, or teach us how/why to love ourselves. So we lined up like all the other girls for a hamster wheel where we'd chase after false realities hoping at the end of the rainbow was a prince, or princess, (or non-binary super hero), or parent-- who would love us unconditionally, who would protect us from harm, who would take the pain away. Our spirits are hurt--many of our needs are not met, life doesn't look shit like we thought it would--and we've bought in to the lies that it's because we are not enough--thin enough, tight enough, tall enough, light enough, curvy enough, happy enough. That if we just were more like "her"---we'd finally get off the wheel, we'd finally find "them", we'd finally find IT. Well I'm sorry. Leprechauns aren't really. No one is coming to save you.
“You have to peel back all the layers, to the little girl who was hurt, or unloved, or taught to believe pretty would save her from the reality that life is hard. Beautiful women have hard lives. Thin women have hard lives. The “her” you are trying to become still cries herself to sleep at night. There is no way around the pain, but there can be a way out of the suffering.”
