The going to the beach post

I remember how I would fantasize about going on a trip to the beach with my younger cousins donning a bikini to show off my enviable physique. In my head I thought being fit and hot would make my cousins like and accept me. I would not picture anything else but them being amazed by my looks. Well, that trip just happened and even though I don’t look like I did on my mind, I do feel like it. You see, it was a wise person who told me that true self confidence starts from the inside out, not the other way around. And boy was she right.

I made smart, loving decisions on this trip. I decided not to let my insecurities keep me from enjoying myself. Yes, I have cellulite but that didn’t impede me from walking on the beach without a beach wrap. I chose to clumsily paddle-board instead of witnessing how others did it from afar. These decisions were so liberating for me, so groundbreaking! I remember going to the beach and hiding myself under the water, or not going in the water at all dreading the walk from the sand to where the sea covered my imperfect body. I embrace those imperfections now, I love them. How cool it would have been for me to realise this sooner! I would have not avoided trips and experiences like I did before recovery.

In this trip I realised how much more important it is to be a free, fun, loving person than having a “hot” body ever will be. I was visualizing the wrong picture before. I didn’t visualize the laughter, the talks, the fun games, the cool places, the dancing, the singing, the bonding, the L I V I N G.

I finally understand how much time is wasted focusing on stupid insecurities rather than on living in the moment.

Today I am grateful for recovery because I am getting to know and accept the real me and she is pretty damn awesome 😉

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The dreaded bikini season.

I believe things are exactly the way they are supposed to be.

But…

Sometimes I don’t understand why I was given this body I am in. It’s easier for me to love my body with clothes on. The issue is when they come off. I can hide imperfections with a dress or a high waisted skirt. I cannot hide my cellulite while wearing a bikini.

When a friend used to invite me to Cabo I DREADED the moment I had to go in the pool: everybody would see how unfit I really was, or try to look away in order not to be disgusted. At times, I would stand in front of the floor to ceiling window that led to the pool, lift my sundress up, look at my reflection and cried in silence. I never knew my ass and legs looked like that underneath the sunlight until I did that. I used to do that every single day as if expecting for it (the orange skin) to disappear overnight. It never did.

To this day I keep hallucinating trips that involve beach or a bikini. Even with those posts I write about loving my body, even by having tried to change role models, even by having stopped buying fashion magazines. I still don’t feel good in a bikini.

Tomorrow I leave for Missouri to attend my brother’s graduation ceremony. My brother mentioned something about a river so we have to bring our bathing suits. My brother is an athlete and his girlfriend has a softball scholarship so they don’t worry about bathing suits or bikini seasons. I get to spend most of my day sitting in front of a desk and haven’t exercised in a week and a half because I just got promoted and am still trying to adjust to the new position.

Yes, I got promoted, I have dated a few Tinder guys and all I can write about is my fear of wearing a bikini in public.

Second part of the post:

But, I choose today to enjoy my trip, enjoy the river, swim, dance, laugh and live just the way I look right now. If I keep worrying about stupid things I will never enjoy life fully. These quotes did the trick today. Now I am off to packing my bags and writing on my gratitude journal.

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Am I a masochist?

It seems like I do every single thing on my power to end up feeling TERRIBLE. I just binged (1 small popcorn, salty cookies with cheese and turkey ham, 1 tortilla and 2 small “sopes” with the same toppings), and stalked a skinny, very beautiful girl on Facebook (someone I wish I could be or look like).

The worst part about all of this, is that, just when I was heading back home from work, I had thought of what I would do at home. The “ideal” options crossed my mind, such as: reading the pile of books next to my bed, exercising, keep working on some stuff I hadn’t finished, pack for my weekend trip, wax my legs, prepare some birthday gifts, etc, etc… But, I chose to stuff my face with food. Even though I know every single tool I can use to avoid binges, I chose to ignore everything and just ate my ass out. During the binge, I don’t even think, I don’t wanna think, and, the worst part is that I don’t wanna listen to the voice that wants to keep me from grabbing the food. I was also thinking of a cute boy I saw at the gym yesterday and assumed that he (or anybody else in that gym) must see me and see an overweight girl, an average girl, nothing worth staring at, no one even worth talking to. That happens to me all the time: cute guy=guy who won’t even notice me. I’ve tried to change that and I struggle to get those thoughts out of my system, but they’re still around and I think I have evidence to support them.

I know this bingeing is a habit, I know it is also a coping mechanism, but most of all, it has become a nasty habit.

I wasn’t going to post this, but not posting these thoughts and actions would make a mockery out of my blog and my recovery.

I feel much better after this, and I need to work with what I can control: the present. I could have kept bingeing, I could have gone to the bathroom and barfed, but I chose to write instead, and I will get out of this, I know it.