[[I cut my hairs!]]
If I had enough fucking self control, I'm pretty sure I could talk myself into having an eating disorder. Every single day, I'm reminded of how imperfect I am, of how I always need improvement.
Sure, there are things I like about myself. My hair is pretty awesome most of the time, my legs are tiny which I like, my face is cute and my teeth are straight.
I have a fabulous ass and my boobs are close to perfect.
But my stomach? FUUUUCK.
Just the other day Mr. M told me that I had love handles and that he liked them.
NO!
You don't tell a girl that!
You pretend that they aren't fucking there!
Because now every time I look in the mirror, I see my stupid fat, my stupid stomach, my stupid self.
And it makes me want to throw up.
Sure, there are things I like about myself. My hair is pretty awesome most of the time, my legs are tiny which I like, my face is cute and my teeth are straight.
I have a fabulous ass and my boobs are close to perfect.
But my stomach? FUUUUCK.
Just the other day Mr. M told me that I had love handles and that he liked them.
NO!
You don't tell a girl that!
You pretend that they aren't fucking there!
Because now every time I look in the mirror, I see my stupid fat, my stupid stomach, my stupid self.
And it makes me want to throw up.
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