Growing up I was taught that being ‘big’ was wrong.
My mother, though she loved me, was very open of her views on larger women. I grew up believing that thighs that touched and a tummy that rolled when you sat down was disgusting. That it wasn’t attractive.
I was always a chunky child, something that never phased me until my mother started commenting. At the age of 12 I was photoshopping my pictures, ‘look mom, this is how I’ll look when I get thin’, she would tell me that I would look beautiful when it happened and didn’t I think I looked better that way.
I have never been comfortable in my own skin. If my own mother didn’t accept my chunky tummy and my thunder thighs, what man ever would? I grew up believing that love only came to those beautiful enough.
I was never told I was beautiful the way that I was. That my self worth was not measured by the inches around my waist. I was never told that having confidence in myself would make me attractive. I was never told that women come in all shapes and sizes and that every curve, every lump, every bump, was as beautiful as a flat tummy or a gap between thighs.
I was lucky enough to have such a wonderful loving boyfriend who helped me see that I was worth the world. That my curves were a part of me and a sexy part of me at that. And though were not together anymore, I completely owe my new found confidence to him. By his constant words of reassurance that I was beautiful. By the way he worshipped my body and made me believe it was a temple.
I finally feel good about myself. And it’s fabulous.