Flaws and all5:11 AM
I have been working out regularly for the past two or so months and have been eating clean (or at least I try to) for me to beat my Laboracay2014 bod. So when my best friend and I planned to visit our go-to island, I immediately thought I would look good in a bikini because duhhhh, I have been beating my arse off with my workouts. And so I did. I took a ton of photos and believed I looked so good in all of them. When I got to see the photos, I didn’t realize something so shallow can affect me as much as it did. I got frustrated with how they turned out, with how I looked, I ended up deleting most of the shots because I was disgusted with all my imperfections.
Is it supposed to be this way? How could I be so horrified with my own skin?
Looking through what’s left of the photos from that trip, I became aware of how foolish I had been, thinking I could rock a bikini even when I possess all these jiggly parts of my body. What I disregarded however, was that I actually had fun wearing a bikini despite it all and felt so good about myself sans all the photographs. I was so obsessed with getting a good, no flab, tummy-in, perfect bikini shot that I’ve completely ignored all the beauty that was around and within me. I was on the beach, something I have been wanting to do since last month to relax and completely free myself from worries. Instead, I got so preoccupied with taking photos that I’ve managed to ignore the sole purpose of that beach trip.
I could easily go back to that island to correct that mistake, but more than that, the reason why I’m so upset is that I’ve given the photos power to scathe me. I allowed it to ruin how I feel about myself. Everyday since I started working out again, I was hyper, I was happy, I felt strong, and I’ve never felt so alive (cliché as it may sound, but it’s true). Then came the photos and it pulled me deep down that I resorted to eating all my sorrows away through fatty, sickening amounts of junk food. Food that I have already managed to cross off from my diet.
I am thankful for all those junk though as it snapped me back to reality. Aside from the gassy, bloated feeling that I felt the next morning, it dawned on me that I am so much more than that. I am much more than someone who breaks down for one shallow reason. I am way more than someone who gives up a goal easily after a stumble. This was never the goal in the first place; it was to be healthy and strong, not to be skinny so that I could rock a bikini. (Unintentional rhyme, swear) Although it is a guaranteed bonus!
My flaws are as unique as my body. No one else has the authority to accept and love them but me. My flaws won’t hinder me from achieving my goal, and they definitely won’t dictate who I am and what I should feel. I am cognizant of all of them though, I know they are there, and if other people see the beauty in me in spite of all my defect, why shouldn’t I?
This has been another episode of my random musings at dawn. With that I bid you good night.