087: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall
When did I become this lean?
I stared into the mirror, tracing the line between the ribs down to the navel and the muscles across the stomach. Even the back looked less flabby when I made a conscious effort to pull the shoulders back. Usually I was too aware of the folds of my stomach, the flab beneath my shoulder blads, and the thickness of my thighs. Strength and endurance were far more appealing than slimness, but to see myself as a visually attractive woman—even if it was only in the privacy of the bathroom—felt good. To imagine that someone on the street might see me and find me attractive felt good. The prospect of being liked felt good.
I turned away and grabbed a t-shirt, but even as I put it on I realised that the real question wasn't if someone could or would like me—it was if I could like myself.
Written by: Katrine H. (@katrinehjulstad on Instagram)
I stared into the mirror, tracing the line between the ribs down to the navel and the muscles across the stomach. Even the back looked less flabby when I made a conscious effort to pull the shoulders back. Usually I was too aware of the folds of my stomach, the flab beneath my shoulder blads, and the thickness of my thighs. Strength and endurance were far more appealing than slimness, but to see myself as a visually attractive woman—even if it was only in the privacy of the bathroom—felt good. To imagine that someone on the street might see me and find me attractive felt good. The prospect of being liked felt good.
I turned away and grabbed a t-shirt, but even as I put it on I realised that the real question wasn't if someone could or would like me—it was if I could like myself.
Written by: Katrine H. (@katrinehjulstad on Instagram)
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