When women get together and have a "fat talk," their feelings of guilt and failure become ever more aggravated, and it gets even harder to overcome obstacles. Being compassionate with oneself and others means to realize that suffering, failure and imperfection are part of our shared human experience
I am learning to love myself, but sometimes it's not enough. All the love I can give myself can't cancel out the hate that people have for fat bodies. If we want to be real about changing the way that beauty is portrayed and what bodies are considered good, then everyone has to do the heavy lifting to normalize marginalized bodies together.
I do know that my weight is not an indicator of health, fitness -- or anything else other than how much I weigh. I know that I am not defined by my cellulite, expanding midriff, or any other body parts that don't wow me. And yet here I am, wishing that I wasn't mentally dragged down by my extra pounds.
I was a cutter for about 10 years of my life. I wasn't ever going to get a tattoo. I didn't think they were for me. However, I realized sometime last year that I've already marked myself with permanency. And choices I made when I was at my lowest are not the permanent marks I want to carry with me the rest of my life.
My scale and I have always had a love-hate relationship. The day I kicked my scale to the curb was a day I felt a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. Here's the thing about scales. They are sneaky and full of trickery. They can't always be trusted. Here are five signs you need to reconsider your relationship with your scale.