Why? Because two years ago I would have NEVER posted this due to my raging body dysmorphia, my “not good enough” record on repeat, and my “if you had one less piece of seaweed then MAYBE you could be as so bold to showcase your body” punitive anorexia voice inside my head.
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Now? Now things are different. Way different. How? Because now, I see my body as my body. My temple. My home. And I’m damn proud of it for overcoming a mental illness with the highest mortality rate of all the mental illnesses. I’m proud of it for fighting. For staying alive. For giving me life every single day since April 16, 2017. I’m proud of it (and me) for FINALLY living freely 🍒