I have body image issues. With everything that's been going on this year I haven't been going to gym and it really shows. Nothing fits, I feel like shit and I have no energy. As a result I am eating poorly which feeds the vicious cycle.
This goes some way to explaining my thought process at the moment, particularly the eloquent, succinct and accurate statement that "my brain enjoys weaving complex tapestries out of truth and false beliefs".
There's not a lot wrong with my body. My left knee is cactus, my right shoulder rooted and I currently have significant issues with my right hip. My boobs are too small, my stomach too big, my arms and calves are chunky and I have wonky toes. But, fundamentally, there's nothing wrong with me. Yet I detest my body. I look at it with disgust and feel physically unwell when I accidentally see my reflection.
A friend was talking about natural beauty yesterday. He was saying his brother had run into a mutual friend when she wasn't wearing makeup and accused her of false advertising. Wow! Like he's a real Brad Pitt! Not.
Anyway, as I lay in bed contemplating the various interactions of the day, as I do, I came to the revelation that I am never going to have a perfect body. Let it go. Like with the rest of me, there are seven billion people out there, about a quarter of them men, surely one out of one point seven five billion there's one that is willing to treat my body as a wonderland.
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