Throwback Thursday #17

After my mother died, I felt lost. It felt like a part of me died, too, and I suppose, in some ways, a part of me did die with her. I am not the same woman I was when she was alive, nor should I be, but I do think I have grown for the better.

It is hard for me to talk about my mother sometimes because I do not want to paint her in a negative light. She had a heart of gold, and I know deep down she loved me very much, but growing up, I did not always feel that way.

After her death, I fixated on those negative aspects of our relationship, and although they were painful, I found them hard to let go of. I slipped into a deep depression and did not care for myself as I should have.

Part of this also comes from facing a betrayal that left me feeling like I was not good enough for anyone. I felt like a book with a shiny cover that people always pick up but eventually grow bored with and leave in a dark place, alone and forgotten. Always only ever second best. Not good enough to stay on someone’s mind or enough for anyone to want to keep reading.

I gained more weight than I care to admit because not only did I eat my feelings, I think a part of me believed that I did not deserve to be beautiful, and I grew up in a society that taught me I could not be beautiful if I did not look like I often skipped a few meals.

One day, the light bulb went off. I learned that I could keep hating myself and not do anything to change how I look, or I could actually get off the couch and do something about it. I could wish to look like the models all I wanted, but I needed to put in the work to get there.

With this new epiphany, I did something very hard. I stood in front of my bathroom mirror naked and pointed to all my problem areas, and then I fell to my knees and sobbed. I stood back up, held onto the sink, and forced myself to take a hard look and acknowledge that I had only myself to blame for the state I was in, but in order to move forward, I had to let go of the hatred I had for myself. I had to forgive myself. I spoke to myself aloud, “I’m sorry I did this to you. I’m sorry I have hated you for so long. You are worthy of the same love you give to everyone else, and it is time I started loving you too.”

I discovered new things about myself as I started my weight loss journey. I learned that beauty is not defined by size, and my body shape falls more in line with the thicker women of the world: the Sophia Loren and Kat Dennings types. I learned to accept my curves and realized that not everyone could handle them. That’s perfectly okay. I am the back country road kind of curvy, and if anyone finds that unappealing, they can take the highway!

Now, I do not want to look like the models on the cover of magazines. I want to look like me, only firmer and tighter, and I am getting there! Surely, but slowly. Other people are now starting to notice, so that says something! It’s sad that many of them could not see my beauty during my bigger size, but I appreciate the compliments nonetheless. However, their opinions (good or bad) no longer define me.

Learning to love myself brought me a freedom that I had never known because I learned to let go of the opinions of others. Once other people’s views (including my mother’s) stopped defining my worth, I started appreciating myself for who I am, both inwardly and outwardly. In loving myself, I wanted to care for my body and build a confidence no longer defined by society. I am still working on this but I have come a long way from where I started. I do love myself, and I am still working on getting the body I want as I have “fallen off the wagon” more times than I can count, but my ability to keep picking myself up off the ground and getting right back on the wagon speaks volumes to my character.

I am more than my appearance, but I will reach those goals; I know it, can feel it and am more determined than ever! However, I always want to maintain sight of the woman I have become. The woman who has the strength to hold onto the sink to keep from falling as she cries and apologizes to the one person she should have been loving all along. I am proud of my progress and confident in who I am, the woman who does not stay down for long.

I wrote this poem three years ago and needed this reminder today. My ability to see myself as beautiful will probably wax and wane at times, but I genuinely believe I am beautiful for the first time in my life.
I hope this poem resonates with everyone who struggles with confidence. I can tell you that when you feel confident in who you are, it brings an incredible feeling because you shake off the opinions of those who cannot see your beauty.

Every woman deserves to see herself as a queen and every man as a king. It does not matter what anyone else thinks, so be proud and wear your crown!

Love & life lessons,

Kristian

---

If I Could Go Back In Time

i would travel to fifteen

and tell her

to hold her head high

to not compare herself

to other girls

now or at thirty-five

for we are not the kind of beautiful

that turns heads

or steals breaths

we are the kind of beautiful

that watches sappy movies

and attempts sappy poetry

the kind that cries

watching national geographic

while a baby animal dies

the kind that fills

the room with laughter

and the car with song

the kind that sings

as loud as our lungs

will allow

we are not the kind of beautiful

that brings a man to his knees

or his jaw to the floor

we are the kind of beautiful

whose hearts become shattered

when others are

the kind that gets lost

gazing at stars

and sunsets

the kind of beautiful

that will never abandon anyone

yet understands when we are abandoned

we indulge in reese’s cups

and nachos and horror movies

and genuinely love the little things

we may not turn heads

or steal breaths

or make men weak

but we are smart

and kind

and look great in blue jeans

i would tell her

she is smarter than she knows

and stronger than she looks

and one day she will master

how to write a hook

and her own cupcake recipe

i would tell her

her worth is not defined

by the mirror or the scale

but in her light

that shines from her soul

that she has always carried so well

we are not the kind of beautiful

that turns heads

but beautiful, we are still

(I should retake this picture because I have lost weight since then. My jawline is more defined, and you can see my collarbone now).

I am so getting a giraffe onesie! I will rock it with stilettos and rose gold aviators!

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