That’s a very pretty dress!
my boyfriend told me yesterday.
I then told him the story of these pieces of fabric.
3 years earlier, still sick, I was shopping with my mother when I saw this dress. Red, flowery, feminine. Unfortunately, I came out of the fitting room with tears in my eyes, looking like Dobby the house elf in his old clothes that were too big. Docilely, I put the dress back on.
A few weeks later, I was surprised to discover it among my Christmas gifts.
It will look so good on you when you will recover !
my mother encouraged me.
It took me a long time to dare to wear it on once my body was found. I was afraid of my reaction when I felt the fabric matching my hips and chest. I was uncomfortable, she was still damn psychic, that dress, for a girl as discreet as me!
Yesterday, I pulled it out of the closet and wore it. I only received compliments, and I decided to accept them. Believe in the fact that people can find me pretty or interesting despite my imperfection.
One day, I promised myself I would stop hypocrisy:
How can I admire the recovery of others without even giving myself the means to recover myself?
Recover “through others” while being careful not to gain weight.
It’s not the kind of person I wanted to be.
This dress helped me, set me a course. I reconnected with the things I loved, jostled a little at first. Every day I wrote 3 positive things, which helped me not to focus on this weight gain that we fear so much. As I went along, I was delighted to see that I could concentrate again to read, draw, and sit and watch a movie. The joy I saw in the eyes of my loved ones encouraged me more. The more I came back to life, the more comfortable I became with social relationships again. Today, I am able to run 10 kilometres, or dance all night, thanks to this body. I can laugh again without forcing myself, have a good time at family meals without being paralyzed by the abundant food.
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When I need it, I tell myself that I am just as important as the others. Let every imperfection tell me. That every scar, every stretch mark, every inch of skin that sometimes I find “too much”, exists because I live. And it’s beautiful. I promised myself that I would continue to be imperfect. Be clumsy, head in the air, often lose myself, be naive, dance ungraciously. Because I know that I am a strong person, who has managed to keep the little voice inside me quiet. And that’s one of my best qualities.
As you read these lines, know that you are just as important as others. Love yourself, take care of yourself. And keep fighting.