One of the hardest things with which to come to terms in recovery is the changes that happen to your body. But it is also one of the most necessary.
I always wonder when the body image is going to get better. I mean, I will like my body… sometime? Right? I sure hope so. But I also am mindful that body image is the last thing to really get better. It comes later, after you make peace with yourself.
One of the activities I’ve learned about over my time in treatment is writing a letter to your body. So, here goes…
We don’t always see eye-to-eye. We don’t communicate well sometimes. I don’t trust you, still. I am working on it, but I don’t. I don’t always believe you when you say you are hungry… because how can you be hungry again… already? I don’t always listen when you say I am tired. I just want to do a few more things, sleep can wait. I don’t agree when you say I can’t do something, because why shouldn’t I be able to?
I don’t like what I see in the mirror still. But that’s not your fault. You are only trying to be healthy. I wasn’t helping you out all that much for the longest time. I don’t like the recovery cheeks you gave me. I don’t like the squish on my belly or my thighs. I don’t like my butt. And I sure as hell wish you had given me boobs instead of curves.
But I don’t get to pick these things. You are what you are. And I may not like it, YET, but maybe some day I will. Maybe some day I will appreciate all you can do and allow me to do. Maybe I will trust that you will redistribute those recovery cheeks. Maybe I will trust you when you tell me to eat. Maybe I will rest when you tell me to. Maybe I will like the way you look.
I am trying, I am. I am just not so good at it yet.
I’m hate that I mistreated you, even though I really didn’t think I was. I hate that I made you unhealthy when I thought I was making you fit.
But I am not sorry.
I’m not sorry that I changed you. I think, had I not, I would never have become the person I am today.