I’ve been in and out of recovery from the age of about…sixteen, I suppose, and I’ll gladly admit that the first time, I really wasn’t dedicated to it, I didn’t want to get better, because it was too hard and I couldn’t let go of something that I’d relied on since I was ten. Something I’d mistakenly thought had ‘got me through’ the rough patches in my childhood, something I’d clung to out of desperation.

This time, I am trying. I am fighting, every day, to get to a ‘healthy’ place, mentally and physically, where I can start making the past (nearly) ten years up to my body.
And I think it might be starting to pay off.
I think, for the first time, I’m starting to finally make peace with my body. To look in the mirror and see it for what it is, average. To acknowledge that even if I’m not completely satisfied with it, even if there are flaws I can see and even if the voice in my head is always going to be critical, that maybe it’s not the be all and end all. That maybe it doesn’t have to look like the body I want for me to accept it any way.

This is a really rambly post, and as a rule, I’ve tried to stop posting about my recovery etc on this page, but this is something positive, and I know a lot of other girls in recovery or trying to get into recovery follow me, so I thought I’d post it, because…I think it gets better. I think, somehow, my thoughts are becoming less self-destructive, that in some small way, I am starting to accept myself for who I am, to accept that I deserve better than what I’ve conditioned myself into thinking I deserve for so long.
I think we all deserve better than constant self-loathing.
And I think recovery might just be worth the fight.