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I am an avid reader of Eleanor’s Trousers, and she is currently taking part in the 30 days of truth.  I think I’d like to try to respond to the prompts, but we’ll see how long that lasts…

Day 1: Something that you hate about yourself.

Hate is an extremely strong word. When I read the prompt, I immediately thought, well, this will be easy, I hate my body; I hate that I’m overweight.

Throughout my first few relationships, I spent my time worrying about my weight and thinking I looked awful, and my boyfriends spent their time telling me that I wasn’t. I spent two years after my first big breakup repairing my self esteem and learning how to love myself for who I am on the inside and the outside. Then, during my first college relationship, I spent the majority of my time arguing with my boyfriend to love me for who I am and not for who he wanted me to be. Yes, he made me feel awful and insecure, but unlike during high school, I knew that what he was doing wasn’t okay and I tried to ignore him the best I could. Unfortunately, his persistent pressure on me to be thin and athletic or “healthier,” as he put it, made my once rock solid self esteem crack and fall apart a little.

When my husband came into the picture, he picked up the chipped off pieces of my self esteem and has spent our entire relationship slowly piecing me back together. He’s never once made me feel anything but good about myself. He thinks I’m beautiful no matter how much my body changes, and his compliments are never insincere. I’m so incredibly lucky to have him, and that’s why I feel almost selfish for continuing to hate my body. Whether it’s because I’ve been plagued with subtle hints from the media since childhood that my body type and size are not acceptable, or because I can’t fit into my favorite clothes anymore, or because I can never wear the style of clothes that I like because I don’t look like a twig, I can admit that one thing I hate about myself is my overweight body.