I’ve never been very disciplined with food. My dad would take care off cooking and my mom would simply say “no” when we asked for junk food. I never had to take care of that myself.

So when I moved to the UK, I had no control. I ate what I felt like eating and enjoyed it, A LOT. So I obviously started to gain weight without even realising it. Keep in mind that I already had issues with my body, being that I have short legs compared to my torso, and that they’re quite chubby as well.

I met new people in London. People who encouraged me to be happy with myself and my body. I was finally gaining some confidence with my appearance. I was truly starting to feel amazing and liking how I looked.

After a few months, family came to visit, and it got pointed out that I had gained weight. All the newly gained confidence was  shattered. I cried my eyes out, I threw stuff around enraged that it just took a few words to destroy what I had worked so hard on.

So starting from the end of December, I started dieting and exercising. Over time I started to become obsessed with it. And my body. I would feel my hips every few minutes to make sure there was no fat without even realising it.

The breaking point, was when, at some point in April, I was at work and I was really hungry. I wanted something cheap to eat and the only thing that came to mind was the focaccia they sold in the shop across the street. But I thought to myself “I’d rather not eat than have carbs”. I genuinely told myself I would rather not eat. When I realised this I just had a break down in the stock room. What was I doing to myself? So I went to the shop and ate that damn focaccia.

But it wasn’t over yet. I slowly had to stop exercising because I was constantly in pain in all my joints. I had no idea why. It was so bad I went to the doctor’s, I had blood tests done, and since everything was alright but still hurt, the only option left was to send me to do physiotherapy. It turned out that doing over an hour of exercises and also working at Starbucks all day, standing and carrying stuff around for hours straight every single day, was not good for a human body who had never been very athletic up until a year ago.

So I slowed down on the exercising, but the issue with food still remained. I didn’t realise how mean I was being to myself until I started being mean to other people about what they ate. Specifically, Luca, my boyfriend, was visiting from Italy, I hadn’t seen him in ages. And everyday he would just be eating his regular food: cereal for breakfast, pasta for lunch, and so on… I would be a bit nasty and call it “chubby food” and I kept repeating how “unhealthy” and “fattening” it was while I stayed on my strict all-veggie-no-carb diet. At some point he got fed up and said “Why do you keep saying that? I don’t think I’m eating anything bad, it’s just regular food” and THAT was when I realised I how badly I had been treating him, and over the previous months, myself. THAT’S when I actually stopped with the strict diet and tried to go back to enjoying food and loving my body for what it was.

But then I started to fall back to the other extreme, eating too much junk and feeling guilty afterwards. I knew that wasn’t right either.

So, I spent all of May fighting with myself, my body and food, to try to find a balance. A healthy balance. Mentally and physically. And so far so good. I jog when I feel like it, I still eat healthy everyday, but if I have a pastry I won’t hate myself for and I’ll enjoy the shit out of it. I really hope to stay on this path. And I’m confident I will.

A song that definitely helped me through this was “Move Your Body” by Sia, in which she says “Your Body Is Poetry”. And if you think about it, your body really is. What is poetry? It is a series of words used to express something, and every single poem has it’s own structure, form, composition, choice of words, and so on. Every single poem is different and expresses something personal. And every single poem is beautiful, because of how it is. And bodies are just the same. Every single one is beautiful and different and it should only be your tool to be able to express yourself and what you’re able to do. It is your tool. You own your body, your body doesn’t own you. You’re only duty is to make sure it stays functioning healthily, it’s shape is secondary. Unless it’s part of how you express yourself, in that case do what you need to do, but without damaging yourself.

That’s all for today, I hope it was helpful in some way 🙂

See ya~!


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