It is a collective image of different stories of completely different girls. I have combined it for greater brightness, and that this character was able to touch on different souls. And even though it was written in the first person, this is not my story, although it is my "pieces".
I hate my body. Since childhood it brings me only frustration and trouble.
When I was little, everything was above and I was the runt. I remember asking my mom how you can grow quickly, and mom joked that we should hang on the bar upside down. And I hung every day, took it seriously. Hung, hung and raised. And in my class I use the highest, now teasing me a beanpole and cornstalk. Again I hated my unruly body, which grew more than you need and absolutely not in time.
Twenty six million four hundred forty one thousand eight hundred ninety four
I always thought that my body — my enemy. It always surprises and often unpleasant. Pimples and cold on the lips before Dating. Or freckles, which I bleached every spring. The chest, which grew first. Ass that was too flat, too thick. Hands-hooks, leg-rope. My feet was called chicken legs, it matches the bike.
And does this body not to get out, not to get rid of it, but agree it doesn't.
I remember how furiously pimples, and skin scars. How brutally ripped out hair from legs, suffering the pain almost wild with pleasure — I took revenge on my nasty body for all their suffering, but the hair grow again.
The body doesn't want to be friends with me, it's eating more than you need and at the most inopportune moment, and then it all lays on the sides, and completely uneven.
Really it was impossible to be born normal and beautiful? My sister is like my mother and beautiful. And the eyes are large, and neat nose, and body hair do not grow. And I am my father's daughter. Huge nose, narrow eyes and increased hairiness. Where is the justice in this world?
My mother and sister are always over us with dad laughed, calling us eagles for the profile. And they teased us with magnetosome. Many felt sorry for me. Grandmother one day, collecting my liquid three hairs on his head (why not the opposite — would be better if the bunch of hair on the head and nothing on the body!), sympathized with, well, not lucky for you, the father, would be like a sister to beauty, married would be easier to get out there, and now is already something. Have to live and suffer. And that's live. And I am suffering.
Dad always guiltily looked at me, saying I'm sorry it came to this, not wanted. Mother in some early age I realized that the outfits for girls I look like a monkey, and no longer even try, silently sympathized. She taught me how to put on makeup, hiding flaws of the face, but I quickly realized that my whole face is one big drawback.
No, my body is definitely my enemy. I had to deal with it.
Acne, excess hair, then excess weight, too thin legs and a fat ass too. Additionally, this body was always sick when it was out of place. On the exams, during the holidays, even on your wedding day, I was walking with the temperature.
Twenty seven million six hundred ninety nine thousand four hundred fifty seven
And the longer we live together the body, the more I hate it. During pregnancy I was a huge barge that no one in the doorway was not. And of course, after birth, the condition of my body — hugging and crying. Or rather, to cry and to hate. To embrace him — too much honor. Hate these stupid stretch marks that came out immediately and turned me into a striped tiger, although I have not smeared. These hanging down the sides and belly, which did not want to be like before. This sagging huge Breasts, which every night fills the whole bed of milk, and to sleep in a puddle. His hands were huge from pulling the child, spin the wheel, under the eyes, the hair falling out in batches. Beauty, me too!
Husband got himself a young and beautiful and gone. Son shakes the nerves, and I have to work day and night to survive. To work where they pay well, though it is not mine. Men, there is not expected. I need to be so ugly and "used"? Nobody.
I hated my body and starved him to death, but it still have not lost weight. Extra pounds stuck tightly, and do anything — useless. I went to the most brutal massages for weight loss and receive the results, but immediately removed the stress of the most filthy stuff, which could get. Then burgers, chocolate cake, fried potatoes. To stay was impossible. But then again went for a massage where the whole body is covered with bruises. No less abused I'm over the body in the gym with weights and barbells, but it wouldn't budge. Did not give anything, on contact did not go. And I stopped trying, now just don't look in the mirror and wearing all black and baggy.
When you need to go to the beach, I feel immense stress. Searching for a swimsuit that would have taken and hid. But haven't found anything like it. And probably won't. Therefore, the sea to relax don't like.
When everything is photographed, I want to sink into the ground, not to spoil the overall picture her fat and ugly body. In photos I always turn out badly, no matter how hard.
I hate my body. It's mocking me. Would be another body has already agreed to cooperate and lost would be tightened, and this in any.
Still and wrinkles. Oh, I'm only thirty, and on my forehead wrinkles. Here I told mom not to wrinkle my forehead! But no, and now I'm thirty and I'm already thinking of taking some shots or something. Let this stupid body then needles are poked, it is good do not want. Stupid and ugly body!
I hate my body, and it answers me the same. And the longer I live, the colder our relationship. I think other body more pliable and more pleasant. And my becoming a source of frustration and pain.
But I can't change, can't come to the market and to switch with someone bodies. Unable to go under the surgeon's knife, but I have a suspicion that this hatred is not going anywhere, and I always find something to hate your body. I'm locked in space, which I don't like. But go cannot.
Also interesting: Stop criticizing your body
How your body tells you what you really want
Sometimes I think all my other problems — in relationships with men, with the search of a child begins at the point when I decided your body to hate. But perhaps I'm just imagining this. And here is the body! published