Stretch marks

Warning: this post is real and raw, as is the photo included. It is exactly what I see and feel everyday.

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I noticed my first stretch marks a few months after discharge from Forest View PHP. I was appalled and I remember crying for well over an hour. It sent me into a small spiral of restriction. Back then I felt like many other women: stretch marks and any scars or other “imperfections” are seen as disgusting and unwanted. That is why I couldn’t handle looking at my thighs for a long time. I closed my eyes anytime I was getting dressed. The only time I wore a swimsuit was with shorts on.

As time went on and I stayed a stable weight, thanks to mild restriction, my marks faded.I could barely see them which meant others couldn’t either. My body image improved in the slightest. Honestly I just forgot I even had stretch marks for around a year since I had so many other ED thoughts/body image issues/behaviors/etc to deal with.

Coming back form residential I couldn’t hide from it anymore. I gained more stretch marks than ever before and I’m not using my eating disorder to distract me. There are the old, white and subdued, and new, angry red and impossible to ignore. This is what I see every single time I look down at my thighs. Its my choice how I let if affect me.

I won’t lie, this has been HELL to get through. I have broken down and doubted my recovery over some imperfections in my skin. How incredibly sad is that?

My view of the stretch marks is slowly changing. I didn’t gain them for nothing. They are a package deal with my recovery, and I want that more than anything. My body has grown bigger and stretched in ways it hasn’t in years. I neglected and starved it and upon receiving nourishment it became healthy again. There is no way at all I could be so committed to recovery and life if my body wasn’t changed to the way it is now.

I have earned these stretch marks. All of the ensures I’ve downed, tears I’ve cried, emotions I’ve dealt with, thoughts I’ve overcome, and every ounce of strength has resulted in them. I am proud of the work it took to come here. My body is not perfect by today’s standards but it is healthy. It deserves my love.

My stretch marks will probably never go away on their own. I fully believe I can get to a point where I won’t want them to. They signify my struggle and resiliency. My entire recovery is represented in those lines. Its time to own it.

I may not be able to say I love these marks yet, but one day I will.

 

 

 

My body

I still wake up, some mornings, surprised by the size of my body. I look in the mirror, expecting to see less than what’s really there. I notice what I’ve lost: muscle, protruding bones, the extra space that is now filled. I’ve gained so much more.

This body doesn’t struggle through hours on the treadmill. It is not wasting away. My hip bones no longer scare my mom. It doesn’t ache constantly. I can sit and lie down without feeling pain.

My body is soft. It supports me as I go about my day. It is growing stronger. It allows me to do yoga each day simply to enjoy. It has stretch marks to remind me where I’ve been and that I have fought hard to come here. It is well-nourished and healthy. It isn’t perfect, and that’s okay. It deserves my love.

It is exactly what I feared for so many years. It is different than I expected. It is more than what I was okay with. It is more than I could ask for. It is different, but that is a good thing. It is exactly the way its supposed to be.

My body is more beautiful than ever before and I am beginning to see it.