Its about a month to go until my wedding... And despite the best of my intentions, the stress, anxiety, and loneliness have taking their toll. I have not lost weight or gotten in shape...
I have probably gained weight and... staring at my body in the mirror, I start to break myself down for the extra inch or 2, for the cellulite...
It's hard to be away from literally all of my close friends and family, and of course medical school is hard. I've tried, eating salads and vegetables but... when you live alone, sometimes it's hard to convince yourself to make the meal you know you need, and to make the pizza again.
Halloween passed, and I got candy for the kids that might come by. Of course, none came up. (I am so new to apartment living.) So now, I have all this candy that I don't need...
But then I realized... What the hell am I do? Shaming myself for surviving? Shaming and hating parts of my body because they aren't small enough? Does this make me bad? NO!
I'm a pretty decent person. Last weekend, I pushed grocery carts that were just stranded in the parking lot into the store. I did not blast it to the store employees for a thank you, no asking for help, just did it. Why? Because I used to work in a grocery store and had to get carts. I understand the pain and want to make someone's day maybe not better, but maybe just not worse, you know? I try to donate clothes, money, blood, hair and time when I can. By no means am I a saint or the best person. But I try. I'm fairly smart in certain subjects and love to try to believe in the best in people. I love a man who is so wonderful that I try everyday to be the woman he deserves.
So I can have my candy. Why not? I'm sure there are reasons but let's get real. I bought the damn candy. It's food. And I'm the only one in my apartment. I am not throwing out the stuff I traded my money ( and if you think about it, time) just because it's sweetened and fattening. I'm going to reward myself for getting through the section of my anatomy notes on dural sinuses and drainage of the brain. I'm going to be happy because why shouldn't I be?
As for my body, who the hell cares if my arms look just a bit pudgy or my thighs dimple from cellulite? I'm working to be a freaking healer! I'm surviving medical school and going for it. It's my body, I have to live in it, so why not be happy in it as well?
So smile, have a piece of chocolate, and work to be a better you.