New Year. Yay.

Most people at this time of year live by the saying "A New Year, A New Me". A blanket phrase that works for people. It's easy and simple and thing to say.
However, I don't want a new me.

Of course, like everyone else, I have things I want to change about myself. Like most, I want to lose some weight and get in shape.

In the past few post I've talked about how great things have been and today I realized something.
Everyone has things going on, we all know that; however, life, most likely, isn't as bad as it seems.
I know that sounds terrible, or, at least, it could be taken terribly. I'm not trying to down play anyone's pain, past, troubles, or anything like that, don't get me wrong about that. However, I know a lot of people that take something that is bad and turn it into something that is so overly terrible.
Long story short, water off a duck's back.

So yes, a new year is coming; however, no to a new me...a better me? Maybe. Hopefully.
The new year will have a lot of ups and downs, I will grow stronger, I will have weak moments, but I will stay true to myself.

Happy Holidays.

Well, since it's the holidays I feel like I need a simple and happy post. Life has been crazy the past few weeks and it has made me realize just how lucky I am.

Sure, I still will have days when I'll forget how lucky I am, or I'll still feel alone in my world, but deep down I know I can never forget.

I wrote about the power of social of media. Long story short, that's still going on. I'm pretty sure if you really wanted to get something done, all you have to do is fine the right person to talk too. Social media can make or break you in a matter of a few seconds...even less time than that. So always keep that in mind when you posting a status on Facebook or even a simple blog post.
No matter, I'm still happy and proud of myself for all that I've done...and to think...it's all been done via Twitter.

My boyfriend...my sweet...sweet...kind heart-ed man. I always knew I was lucky to have him. As soon as we started dating I knew I was lucky. A sexy Irish firefighter, who I got to call mine, was just that....mine. However, I'll be the first to admit the whole firefighter thing got old, quickly. Yes, I support him and yes, I love that he wants to serve and protect. (haha..I found that way too funny). However, I also saw what it has done to him. I'm very lucky he's still alive, I'm very lucky he's still got his spirit...but most of all, I'm glad he's mine. He has taken care of me, he's hung around my friends and he has gone beyond his "call of duty" as a boyfriend. He also puts up with all of my crap and anyone who does that is just simply awesome.

All of my co-workers. I walked into work and my mailbox and desk was covered in gifts, cards and food all celebrating the holiday...well Christmas. I celebrate Christmas, so whatever you would like to call it is fine, but that's what I do. So just saying. Santa, snow men and glitter are all covering my desk. Everyone in the office has been so wonderful. I've been fighting off this weird cold thing and for the second time in almost five years, I called off work the other day...everyone has been asking if I'm okay and checking in on me. We do cards for people, get well cards, happy birthday cards, almost anything you can think of cards, and it is all amazing. Plus...they keep complimenting my outfit...so who doesn't love that! Ego boost! (not to cover all the other wonderful things we do for each other).

All around, I get to say I'm lucky. I'm lucky for my cat, all his wonderful cuddles when he just knows, I'm lucky for my family for dealing with me and putting up with me, I guess same goes for my friends, but honestly, life hasn't gone the way I thought it would, but as the holidays come and 2015 is about to end, I get to say I'm happy and luckily.

Things might not be perfect, but I have so much to be happy and thankful for. I only hope everyone else can find the same things in life.

Your Story Isn't Over

I've written before about how I use to abuse myself. I will have to admit sometimes I am still hard on myself, more than I should be. However, I know people who are still stuck in this loop.
I get to say I moved past it. I moved past harming myself.

Does that make my story over?

It was for attention, mostly. I did like the control of it. It was something I could control. I could control the things that were happening for the first time in my life. That was something that felt better, even through the pain, the control felt better.

I've talked to my boyfriend about some of this and he's opened up some about the way he feels like he is in control of his body. He has different ways than I did, which I'm thankful for; however, in the end it will cause more problems than not.

He was talking about "Project Semicolon". I had heard about it and knew people who supported it, but other than that I never really paid much attention to it.

Today I was looking it up and reading more about it.

This is from their website:

"We envision love and hope and we declare that hope is alive;

We envision a society that openly addresses the struggle with mental illness, suicide and addiction; 

We envision a conversation embraced by churches and addressed with love;

We envision a society that sees their value and embraces it; 

We envision a community that comes together and stands together in support of one another;

We envision a world where an escape is not found within drugs or alcohol;

We envision a world where self-destruction is no longer a escape to be used;

We envision a revolution of LOVE and declare that our stories are not over yet;"

-Amy Bleuel

Founder & President

Just reading that alone I was pulled in. It connected me into a new sight. It brought back these feelings when I thought all hope for me was lost. I was lucky enough to be found, found by my own self. I know some people aren't that lucky. However, like it says on Project Semicolon, your story isn't over. The point of ";" in general. It's so small, simple, but beautiful. 

Read more about Project Semicolon here: http://www.projectsemicolon.org/

The Real Power: Social Media

If you don't know me, or if you haven't figured it out by now, I am into theater...or theatre if you'd like. I've been doing theater since I was five and I have always had a love for the art. Being in shows, on stage or off, or working behind the scenes, I just love being around theater. Theater Theater Theater! (Much like Marsha Marsha Marsha) To me, theater is a powerful movement. Each story is filled with dreams, hopes, realities,  truths, and each holding a moral value. Every person who watches a play or reads a script will take something away from it. Not everyone will take the same things away and that's fine. What they take away isn't always the point, just that they took something away.

This past week as been very busy. Normally, I'm very shy. I hardly do anything out of my comfort zone and I was pushed to that edge and beyond this week.

Let's start with Sunday. Seven days ago, today. Excitement filled my head as I went on through out the day. I knew that night I was going and seeing the musical hit "Jersey Boys" for the first time. I love the music, the story line, and the movie, but I had never gotten to see it in person. I'm one of those people who gets nervous for the cast, even if I'm not in the show. Let's just say...all day I was a wreck of nerves and excitement. My niece was coming along and it was her first "big girl" show, which was also very exciting! One of my co-workers ending up going that night as well.

Long story short... IT WAS AMAZING! The next day at work it was all I could talk about. The office was full of music as we sang the Four Seasons all day. So, out of the blue, I did it. I tweeted at, who I had from the, cast and told them they needed to come and visit because we were singing.

Again, long story short, I ended up meeting the cast. I got to greet them, let them into my work, a museum, and saw them later that night!
It was my dad's birthday and they gave him a signed picture and took pictures. They're honestly so down to earth. Being a theater kid, it was an honor that they even said "Hello", now I can call them "friend."

Mix all of that in with Thanksgiving, the parade, my family, meeting all of my boyfriend's family...it was a very long and stressful week. However, it was a time to give thanks. Which I did. I am very thankful.

How weird is that power of the social media though? A small tweet...less than 150 characters. Like a line from Jersey Boys. "Two hours in a recording studio on a Sunday afternoon and then the whole world exploded!" For me...my world did explode. Social media people! Got me out of my shell and with people who do what I went to school for! I'm not sure when I'll ever come off this high from the past seven days.

Side Note: I would love to give a huge shout out to my family who has laughed at me and made me who I am. You guys have supported me my whole life and you'll always have my back. Dad, I'm so happy I finally got to give something back to you. The cast of Jersey Boys, you guys have been so wonderful and happy, even when I just about passed out from meeting you. You've taken me in and called me friend, I hope to always stay in touch. So yea know, if you ever read my blog...HA Most of all, I want to thank my boyfriend. You have been amazing this week. You've dealt with so much and even though I've been fan girling over four guys under a street lamp, you're the one I get to come home to at the end of the day and I couldn't be happier. None of this would have happened without you. Thank you, baby. 

Alone, Yet Surrounded

Have you ever felt alone even when you're surrounded by people? To me, that's one of the weirdest feelings. You're sitting there with someone else, maybe a whole group of people, your mind just wonders, and you're alone. You're in your head just thinking. Maybe thinking of nothing, maybe of something that's tearing you up inside or maybe something that is just a dark memory. Let's face it, when you find yourself alone like that it's because it's a dark thought or something dark is happening, taking over.

That kind of alone is different than when you're really alone. Sometimes it's even worse. At least when you're truly by yourself the fears can make sense. Fear of someone attacking you, fear of something happening to you when no one is around, or the fear of being forgotten and lost. However, how can one have those fears when a group is around you.

Your mind wonders. It's a scary thing. Minds wondering just make me panic. I know, for a fact, that I over think. Over thinking causes me to lose faith in myself and others. I begin to not trust others. I begin to not know what I'm doing, I lose trust in myself.

Take a breath and open your eyes. You realize that you weren't alone. You're still in the group of people. The loud back ground noise from the chatter starts making sense once again. You can hear the noises turn into voices and words. You can hear.

How is that? How does our mind play such cruel tricks on us. Or is it our mind at all? Is it us? Is it us just us? Are we just that cruel to ourselves?

We torture ourselves.

I wonder if it's because we believe we deserve it. We believe we deserve what we are getting. We deserve to be alone. I deserve to be alone.

The past is in the past. It's an easy thing to say, but is it true? Have you ever truly forgotten the past? Yes, we can regret. Yes, we can say we forgive, but the past is what makes us. We grow and learn from the past, it shapes us and it make us become the people we are now. If that's true, I understand why I think I'm just a horrible person. Like most, I've done things I'm not proud of. Yes, I have changed and for the better; however, that part of me still ticks away.
Haunting. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Passing People

People will always come and go. Always. Sometimes it'll hurt and sometimes it will be something did. It's just how life works. I'm sure anyone will tell you that. It could be a best friend, someone you cared about, someone you hardly knew, just someone.
It's always been crazy to me when I really thought about it.
A split moment.

There are people that I use to talk too, who use to be my best friends, who I never talk to anymore. There are also some people that I only ran into once in my life and I think about them often.

When I think about this it scares me.

I wonder if I'm one of the people that gets lost in memories. I don't want to be lost.

Halloween--Time Flying.

I haven't watched half the Halloween movies I like to watch and I feel so behind.
This really isn't much of a post and I'm sorry for that, but how did this month go so fast?!
I was always told that the older I got the faster time would go, and I never believed it!


Well...time. You can slow down now.

That would be great.

700 Views...What?

So, I know I haven't posted much on here, life...right?
However, I checked on things, getting ready to right a post, then I looked at 700 views! I'm shocked from the different countries and how many views I've gotten.
I didn't think anything would come of this. It was a place to express my thoughts and everything I was going through.
I hid this blog from the world. I opened about about things I never thought I would talk about.
Then, slowly, I started telling people about my blog, started giving out the link and now I'm open about it.
I'm proud of myself for everything. I have changed so much since I started this blog and it hasn't even been a year, yet.
I have dated, cried, laughed, feared, smiled, changed. I learned so much about myself and others. Things I will never forget, almost keep close and never let go of.
I want this to be a place where I can look back at smiled, remember my life for the good and bad times and know that things were good.
I lived through everything and I have proof.

I have proof that I'm not alone and I'm human.

When I started  realizing that I was okay if people read this, I realized how selfish I was being. Now I can hope that someone reads this and realizes they're not alone. That's the point of writing.
Express myself and everything I've ever feared, everything I've been through, everything good and bad, things are okay. People grow. I keep saying now that if one thing happens I hope someone, just one person, realizes that they're not alone.
I know from writing this, I've realized I'm not alone. I've been able to let go of a lot of things and move on myself. It's really helpful and I encourage everyone to start writing. Just on paper even. Keep it to yourself or put it out there under a fake name. Do something. It'll help. One day you'll realize that you're ready to share it with the world. You're ready to move on, let go, and live again.

So my little views, I can never thank you enough. Even if it's the same three people viewing over and over again. I thank you. You have suffered through all my stories, my terrible grammar, my posting a lot at once then nothing at all.

I encourage you to comment on things, ask me questions, ask me for advice, ask me anything, ask for a topic you would like to hear about, give me feed back. I would love some! I'm happy to just ramble, as I'm sure you can tell, but seriously, I'm open to hearing what you guys (or gals, or just people) think!

So You're Dating A Firefighter.

How did that happen? Wonderful question.
Have you ever met someone and when you first start talking you just know that you want that person in your life. Like, no matter how they're in it, they just need to be in it for you to keep your mind.
Well that happened.

Then you find our they're a firefighter. At first sight, it sounds wonderful. So cool and you get all this cute stuff that says "firefighter's girlfriend" or "my heart belongs to my firefighter". Trust me...there's a lot of cute stuff like that out there. Then it sounds amazing because you're talking to a hero, someone who saves people, someone that people look up too. It's all so over whelming you don't realize what comes with it.

The fear, every time he's at work, the stress, which is brought on by the fear, the PTSD, from everything he's seen.
By the time you realize all the stresses you're already pulled in to deep. You look into his eyes and see the future and it's so bright and happy. One can only wonder how someone who has seen so much have so much light in their eyes.
You want to become close to someone, but because of their past they might pull away. This can happen to the best of us, but a lot of us get over it. We heal and move on from the past, from the people who hurt us or the time we hurt ourselves, but what happens if we couldn't heal? If we couldn't stop the pain. If we had triggers, if we had smells or sights that would stop you and place you back into a time when things weren't so good?

Think of it this way, an ex boyfriend, they had a hoodie you loved to steal from them, it smelled like them, it made you so happy and safe...then you break up. You slowly move on and get over and you may even find someone else who makes you happier than your ex. Then one day you walk by someone and they smell like he did, the scent of what use to be your favorite hoodie surrounds you, it over takes you. It brings back him and what he did. Now think about that, but watching someone die, watching their house burn into ashes. (or sometimes PTSD is sexual assault). Take that smells of your ex boyfriend and amplify by ten....ten hundred, ten thousand, ten million! You can't..you may think you understand how bad it is, but you can't unless you were there with them

How are you suppose to love and support someone through something you can hardly understand? It pushes them way from you. It can cause so many stresses on every day life and your relationship and yet you look at them and you just feel like everything is alright because it's a good day.

It's scary. It's hard. It's not all sunshine and rainbows and it's something that is going to take time. I might complain. I might have a bad day trying to deal with everything. I might want to give up, but I can't. I know he will need me, even if it's to get his mind off of things, even if he doesn't want to talk or open up. So the next time I say "My boyfriend is a firefighter", I will say it with a smile, but don't think it's because I think it's the coolest thing in the world or because I get all the cute little "firefighter's girlfriend" stuff, it's because at the end of the day we will be stronger than ever because we have a bond. We have a bond that will hold us together until the ends of time if we let it, because he has shared with me, I have listened and I still don't treat him differently. He is a person. He's much more than a firefighter and much more than PTSD.

To That Person

To that person,
Thank you. Thank you for wanting to just make some quick cash. Thank you for thinking that was okay. Thank you for taking my life. Thank you for getting my hard earned money and things. I hope you enjoyed that. I hope you think you're funny. I hope you think you're a badass. If all you wanted was a few bucks I would've given them to you willingly. I would have rather just gave you money. Instead you took so much more. You took everything. You took the sense of feeling safe. You took more time and money than you will ever know. So yes, I do hope that you think you are amazing and awesome...I hope that because one day you will crash. You will realize how low you are. You will be alone, in the ground, six feet under and I will be here, picking up the pieces and moving on and going on knowing I will always be a better person than you.

A Different Out Look

Changing. I just read and wrote a huge post about changing. It's something that can be good or bad, just depends on what kind of change we're talking about.
I just want to focus on the good change.
The change within me, the one that will make me happy and make me the person who I want to be.

I don't think that's bad.
Surrounding myself by the best people I can. Relax. Enjoy life.

I think I will do that.

List of happiness:
1. Stratford yesterday.
2. Slightly sleeping in.
3. Making my own breakfast.
4. Bill.
5. Bill cuddling with me.
6. Friends who want to be around me.
7. Little Nicky.
8. Cran-grape juice.
9. This blog.
10. Having my own business (even if it has been slacking).

Part Four: Is The End The Beginning?

           This series started saying to never change who you are. Do you still feel that way? Was Shakespeare true in saying "to thine own self be true"? Perhaps. It just depends on where we're at in life. Depends on how we feel. Never change you. I feel like when someone says never change they mean the person you are, at least the person they think you are. No one sees the demons within. When I look at someone and I see a smile on their face, I always try to think about why they're so happy...why they're smiling or if it's even real or not. I try to smile through just about everything. Smiling and smiling just hoping it would one day turn into a real smile and it did. I worked hard to make myself happy, to let go, to let all the anger I held in just out. Talking to people, writing a blog, writing songs and poems, getting everything out has helped. It was hard and scary and it sucked. 
  

Person A: "You're never going to be completely happy with what you look like. You'll always wish x,y, and z were different (and those variables change!). Even with the luxury of being pregnant and not having to worry about how my clothes fit, I still find myself worrying about what other people think about my body, and I hate it.

No one is 100% in love with who they are and how they look. No one. So we (as a culture) need to stop beating ourselves up because we don't have as much confidence as ______. So we need to learn to like ourselves. NOT become overly confident and boisterous and brag... but just learn to appreciate the good qualities we do posses. Those insecurities are never going to go away, because those characteristics we're insecure about are probably never going to change.
In middle school (and even high school) people used to squawk (like a parrot) and cackle at me like the Wicked Witch from Wizard of Oz, because of my nose. Sure, I could drop a pretty penny go to and get it "fixed," but what would I accomplish? I'd be doing exactly what those bullies would want me to do; I'd be letting them win. Some girls are just born thicker and broader. We can't get hung up on the ideal body image, because even those girls don't have that look going for them. Just find things you like about yourself (write them down!), and focus on exaggerating them! Just like we as girls don't want to date or marry a "project," guys don't either. It's fine to have insecurities, but DON'T let them inhibit you from becoming self-sufficient, and LIVING."

Person B: "Right now, I’m still in the depression mode. Weighing 230 pounds takes a toll on a person. Once I work my way to 199. Then I will realize I am an amazing person, and if I can lose 30 pounds then I can do anything. And then love myself. Hopefully. I always think if I was skinny how my life would be. I'd be sleeping around with guys. Smoking weed with my friends. Become what both my parents were. So I am grateful I’m over weight because I grew out of the stoner life like my parents and a close friend and trying to do something with my life. Even with a few extra pounds."

Person C: "I'm at a standpoint of I will eat whatever I want, to a "it's time to be healthy and fit and meet my body goals....so I'm in the process of change."

Person D: "Not gonna lie there are days that I just don't even want to leave the house cause I feel like a giant ugly ogre. Sometime the clothes just don't look right and I feel like crud. I sink back to those feelings. It will happen, it happens to all of us. But you have to tell yourself that this feeling is only TEMPORARY. It will pass, and then you'll feel better. You'll rock those skinny jeans and won't even care to cover up you're acne. When you feel great, you tend look great. It really doesn't matter about how others see you, it's how you see you. Once you focus on that, and are able to love that, then you'll feel accomplished. You'll feel comfortable in your own skin. You'll be able to dust off people's comments like nothing and you'll finally be able to GLOW."

Person E: "I had a seriously sprained ankle in high school. The day after it happened, I asked my mom if she could get my stuff from the car. I had a lot of stuff and couldn't get it on crutches. She said that maybe if I got it I could work off my love handles and then refused to help me. My little brother ended up carrying my stuff in with me. I was so shocked that the hurt didn't sink in for a while. My mom still makes off handed comments sometimes but less than she use to." 

Person F: "I wanted nothing more than to be liked and fit in as a kid. I would make friends and either they would start disliking me, or others pressured them into disliking me. I was too nice and an easy target. There was something about me that stood out and I never really understood it.

At home I was the younger sister and tom boy. I only wore hand me downs and was never asked for much. My parents thought of me as the one they didn't need to worry about.
I ate my feelings, I had consistent nightmares, I was teased constantly, but I kept it to myself.
Actually I never listened to rumors and I think I'm better for it. I was friends with the kids that were held back for "immaturity" in elementary, the kid who picked his nose, the new kids, the weird ones, the smelly ones, the peepers, the quiet, honestly anyone who stood out. I value identity, and even if they didn't try, they were the weird kids to everyone else, and that says to me they knew who they were and didn't know how to pretend to be someone else.
Ok ok, for real, body image. The biggest turning point was when I was given the opportunity to start over when my family moved. I eventually became friends with the popular and somewhat popular kids. I went from being the lowest peg on the social latter, to clutching at the top. It was when one of the girls "joked" that the biggest kid in class was going to eat her, I knew I didn't want that. The year prior, before I hit a growth spurt, the same was said to me. It wasn't a great feeling being told you're so fat you could eat another person. I couldn't be part of that. I spent the rest of middle and high school in the same position as before. No one really knew me, but they liked me enough to talk to me occasionally. I was often the backup friend, but I deviated again.

Through my life I have learned that being happy with yourself, is accepting the weird ugly meat bag we're all wearing. It has nothing to do with who we are. Gender, size, shape, none of it should matter. We have limited control in our meatsack, we should all embrace and love it. for all of its imperfections.
Now I just need more meatsacks who embrace me. That weird girl on mean girls is kind of an intense version of me. I want to have a love cloud that protects all the people I care about so they are free from judgement and can learn to love their meatsack as much as I love them, for just being them.
I could write tons more, but I realize most of my discussion of bodies is a disinterest in the physical aspect of who people are."

Person G: "I am now in a better place. I had a kid and realize my body will never be the same but that is ok. I gave birth to a beautiful tiny human. I have my good days and bad days. But the good are out waying the bad. I have a husband who loves me no matter what and tells me I look beautiful daily." 

Person H: "Just that I think that being able to strip down all that bullshit and insecurity got me to a place where I feel really comfortable with who I am. It took a lot of work. I'm also lucky to have a husband that looks at me as an equal and who respects my body. He's not weirded out by it. He doesn't say something snippy if I don't shave my legs for awhile (no political agenda here, usually just lazy). He's still attracted to me and is comfortable. I don't think I'd be able to be involved with someone who struggled to accept me. I'm not cookie cutter. And he's totally fine with that." 

Person I: “I do think (and however sad this may sound) the best motivation, at least that I have discovered is when someone notices you, a man, a woman, whoever it may be – when they seem to have that desire. It makes you want to try harder. I love my boyfriend, I want to marry him, I don’t want anyone else besides him. But, that notice, is what can keep you motivated – even with no intention of giving into the desire.”

So, what have we learned? If you're still with me, thank you. I was going to shorten the stories, but I felt like it took away from everything. There's a common theme of people feeling so down about themselves and people telling them that they were right. Some of them found peace, found at least one person who helped them, some just count on themselves. I can't wrap my head around why people are so rude...not just to strangers. It's easy to be rude or mean to someone you don't know, you don't have that connect to even begin to feel bad for, right? What about people you know? What about people who are suppose to love you and be there for you? What happens when they're rude to you? Do you think about what you say? How easily it could break someone? Smile at someone. Some random person on the street. Give a homeless person a water bottle. Listen to someone. Listen to their stories. Listen to their life. People are screaming their stories at you; all you have to do is listen. Perhaps if we start listening, we will learn about them. Perhaps if we start sharing our stories we can start relaxing, opening up, living a new life, getting happier and realize that looks don't matter as much as we think.

Part three: Trying Or Just Pretending.

 I can't pretend things are okay when they're not. I can hold my head up and push through and one day it will be okay. Until then, everyone needs a day to just cry. What about after that though? What can we do to pull ourselves out of that? 

Person A:  "I've actually tried believing what my husband says.I don't vocalize any insecurities I may have. I don't put myself down, and I don't make sarcastic remarks about myself. I originally started doing it because of the way it affected my husband. Whenever I'd "correct" him and say "No I don't," or "You're just saying that because...", I wouldn't always notice it, but it DID affect him. Here he was, lovingly telling me something he likes about my physicality, and I was telling him he was wrong. I wasn't validating his feelings. I'm not saying I was being "ungrateful," but after I while, I could tell that it legitimately made him sad. He loves me, and is verbalizing said love, and I would dismiss it. How sad are we when we try to comfort someone, honestly and earnestly, and they openly deny said comfort? I was openly throwing his affirming words, telling me things I wished someone would tell me my whole life, back in his face, because I was too insecure to even TRY to believe him.

Simply saying "thank you" has changed everything."

Person B: "I am a very depressed person. I’m not going to lie. I hate myself for eating poorly. I hate myself for being diagnosis with PCOS. I hate myself for being afraid to love myself for who I am and what I look like. I now hear my friends say I’m beautiful. Of course my family would say that even though I know I’m the ugliest out of all my cousins. Yeah I may have a pretty face but that doesn't help my hatred of my body. Going from a size 13 to 18 in one year was really bad. Then finally being diagnosis with PCOS after not knowing what was wrong with me. I never ate that much growing up. I never ate candy. But I still blame myself for the weight gain. I feel like someone would love me if I was skinny. I'd get guys falling for me. Get leads in plays for being skinny. No one loves the fat girl. They always think I’m big because I eat. Not necessarily. But then my anxiety triggers my depression. Which triggers my thoughts on why i hate myself. I hate myself because I’m fat. I’m trying my hardest to fix it. I go to the gym. I take the right medication now. I’m slowly trying to stop drinking pop. I’m trying to love myself as every other human does."

Person C: "Overeat....cry....get mad...crave fruits and veggies....not much good to be honest."

Person D: "There was this exercise in my psychology class. Every single day we had to look in the mirror and say "I love you." At first, it felt like a waste of breath but over time, it worked. Now I can happily say that I loved myself again. The support of my family and friends helped a ton. Slowly I am repairing myself from the years of self-hatred and I can go into a dressing room now and look in the mirror and say "Wow, I look awesome." Just this past year I purchased two pairs of booty shorts. My legs and butt are the parts I'm most self-conscious about. It was a statement for me, a stepping stone, a big leap. And it felt great."

Person E: "I work out and try to eat right. I tell myself I need to be healthy and being healthy is really what matters. Roller derby and being surrounded by incredible supportive people helps too.

Eating is something I've always struggled with though and I fall back into old hanks of not eating, continuing to feel bad about myself, and then gorging on everything. I usually just end up feeling sick though and then try to get back on course with eating regularly and as healthy add possible."

Person F: "My exterior is imperfect and many things have helped. I think I came to terms with what I was given. I will never be a small woman, but I like that now. There were small things, like a website I found that showed real women's breasts in a nonsexual manor, and that helped immensely. I used to think there was something wrong with them because they weren't perfect and airbrushed. They are real and mine.

I have always hated having big feet, but it means heels are more comfortable; I hated my height, but I like being able to see over stuff; I hated my legs, but even if they don't fit pants right, dresses and skirts are great for that; I have a big head, but it motivated me to make my own hats.
Really I have always loved me in spite of everyone else's input. The most difficult thing to do was tune out all of the negatives. Embracing others faults was a huge step towards excepting their ignorance and judgment. I may dress a bit differently, but it's not to appease others, but myself. Actually I always dressed for me, I just try a little harder to match now."

Person G: "It has taken years and I am still struggling with it. I am finding confidence now that I am in my 30s but still lots of work to be done on the inside to be ok with the outside."

 

Person H: "Therapy helped me get to a place where I didn't internalize blame. Blame for my pain and how I felt unreliable. It also taught me that I could ignore the voice of my mother, telling me how to look and feel.

Now I dress how I like. I'd say the genderfluidity has always been there, though I didn't have a name for it. I just liked some parts of men's clothing and liked how I look in it. I wasn't masculine or femme. I was me. I think that mindset really came into being when I started taking birth control pills that eliminated my period. I forget sometimes that periods even exist. It's AWESOME! I think that was the last time I really thought of myself like a lady, per say, and not just like me. That last thing that made me truly female in my mind. I want to note that I don't really see myself as having a disconnect between my physical body and my gender or anything like that. I'm me. I dunno. I'm sure if I talked to a doctor there's a specific term for that."

Person I: “Eating. I love it. So much. But again every day is different. If you ask my friends, I can eat like a horse – just keep piling food in, never seeming to get full. If you ask my boyfriend, he may agree – but he knows a darker side. He would tell you that I rarely eat, I only eat in front of people, that I only eat tiny amounts of food in private (unless it is a video game marathon where I can’t get enough junk food). I do not eat any fast food. I haven’t since December of 2013. Just something I believe is super unhealthy for you. Don’t get me wrong if a friend bought some micky d’s I sure as hell am going to have a French fry – but no more than 3.

 I think the 100lb mark is scary. While that may seem crazy, it is the truth. I don’t want to be over 100lb. I have stretch marks on several different parts on my body, with new ones popping up almost monthly. This is where every day is different. I look in the mirror, I can see sag, I can see stretch marks, I can see my rib cage, I can see my hip bones, I can see an hourglass, I can see someone who looks sick. This is what I see most days – not what I should be seeing, a confident young woman. But don’t get me wrong, I do have those days too. They are just few and far between. I can feel beautiful, take a selfie then two weeks later look and say “what the hell were you thinking” You look terrible, look at the bags under your eyes, the cellulite on your thigh.

I have never truly shared my feelings, now and then I have a really bad day that can end in tears and I simply tell my boyfriend I am just having a difficult day. They always pass. My issues do not make me want to intentionally hurt myself, or make me angry, or resentful. I am me; I do what I can to make myself better every day- put on that eyeliner at work, if that is what I need that day to feel beautiful. I don’t like when any one comments on my weight. I think it is rude. The one I get most often is “how do you stay so thin” I don’t look back and say “Well, how did you get so fat?” That would be mean. I take it the same way. What if I was having a bad day, what if that morning I looked in the mirror and thought to myself I looked like a malnourished holocaust victim? How would that make them feel if I told them that? I wish people understood that I have just as many issues as other people.”

Try believing, surround yourself with amazing people, eat better, eating at all, take care of yourself more, say fuck the world?