body image: part forever.

lately, i can never really know what the person in the mirror is going to look like when i stare back at her.

many days she's a young woman, slightly overweight but not quite fat.

other days, she's a medium sized girl who wouldn't mind losing 5 or 6 pounds.

on others, i'm not really sure what she is, she just looks like me. those are the days that i like her.

but even on the days i like the EA i see in the mirror, i find myself looking her up and down and making mental notes of the parts in need of the most focus in my workouts, the parts that i just know i'll look back on and be mad at myself for letting them get that way.

lately though, i've had this crazy, scary thought that there might not be anything wrong with my body. it's possible, i think, that my body looks great the way it is and that the recurring problem of me hating it isn't a problem of fat rolls or big bones or one too many sweets; it's a problem that is rooted in my mind.

to think the above thought scares me a little. i'm scared it isn't true. i'm scared that if i assume that the problem is in my head and just resign to loving myself i'll be loving something that doesn't deserved to be loved yet because it needs a lot of work.

but even at my sickest, a part of me has always been a rebel, and that part of me just wants to realize that my body is the only body like it on the whole wide earth and that it's therefore impossible to hold it to any sort of standard, because there can't be one standard for a whole bunch of billions of different designs.

maybe my body is beautiful like it is. maybe my legs and my arms and my short torso and swayed spine are in imperfectly perfect position. maybe it's the remnant voice of my disorder is that's ugly and horrible and should be left unwanted.

maybe this starts a new beginning.