self-love vs.self-hate.

just realised when re-reading my earlier post, that i sounded a wee bit hateful there. i am not though. not at all. if at all, my weight gain was all about misunderstood self-love.

i gained weight, because (subconciously, obviously) food instantly,if only temporarily, healed my various hurts and pains. i thought i deserved all that food. i thought i was pampering myself there. loving myself. all those sweet and creamy foods that i longed for and always gave myself, were an expression of love for and care to myself. it felt good to eat entire packages of chocolate chips, at least for a while. i felt entitled to eat cheesy lasagne and cheese covered bread rolls and to double my fave brownie recipe because i knew i'd be eating most of them anyway. i was taking care of myself with food, when no one else seemed to be loving or caring for me.

it's not something i discovered in my late twenties, obviously. i had -like so many women, i guess - been medicating with food for much of my teenage life. i remember days in high school (a new, scary high school, where i knew no one), when i would come home from school and cook and eat half a litre of vanilla pudding in an afternoon. later, there were months when i would eat entire packs of semolina pudding for babies, or countless toasts with nutella. always the warm, sweet, soothing stuff. i'd hide my binges, obviously. and when i moved to uni, without any clue as to how to feed myself, it just got worse. fast forward ten years (and past some bouts of overexercising), superunhappy and in a crappy relationship, i was still eating crappily and still making myself feel better with food. until i pulled the plug, that is, spring last year.

this whole 'medicating with food'-thing sounds so damn simple, and so stupid, but i was that wrong. i wish i was kidding. it sounds so cliched, but i started to lose the weight when i realised that what was going on was hurting me, that i was unhappy and unhealthy.

it's not much better than hate, and quite paradox, too, but i actually feel sorry for and about my former self. i am sorry that i let that happen to her, i am sorry she had to go through this.

in any way: i might hate the photo of the fat girl. but i don't hate her. never have, never will.

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