This is something I don't do often. If you don't want to read something personal, please, don't go on. This morning I read an amazing post from Jes at
The Militant Baker. As I read every line she wrote, my heart sunk. I had been there, I was that girl. Not many years ago I went through so many of the emotional trials with men and love that she had. Sometimes when you strengthen up and move on from these things it takes another persons story to make you realize how much you have prevailed. This is a short story of me; a girl that isn't skinny, isn't fat, is..well what I would call..an in-between-er. Rewind back to 2004. Art class. High school. Superficial. Where the need to fit in completely takes over you. I was sitting in art class and met this guy. He was funny, charming. I adored him. One problem. I was too busy dating a guy over 6 years older than me. Why? He liked me, he accepted me, he was
OLDER. This guy, in art, we stayed friends. Hanging out with one another, me; exhausting all of my love and relationship problems on him, hoping for help. He was like me, and I didn't even know it. I was quite oblivious.
I wanted everything for someone to love me. Call it a daddy complex? I don't believe in those things though. My father passed away the year before. No, I knew nothing of what should have been expected of a man. Years passed, I dated, had one night stands, etc, all to try and get someone to love me. The year of 2007 I married a man who I thought was the best. He was in some aspects. In others, not so much. We fought, he fought, I fought, he said things, about me, about my weight, continuously. Things like this hurt, and I mean hurt. We both said hurtful things. This ended shortly. Art guy, well, he stood by, dated others, but was there, whenever I needed him. Looking back, I regret being so blind. I dated others, many others, always thought I found the one, to find out I had not. Then, I decided to be alone. Ladies, and men, I cannot stress the importance of what this did to me, I found myself, enjoyed myself. Smiled. Loved my family and friends, and clung to them for support. Art guy, he had given up. Disappeared. I wasn't phased. It was when I was alone that I learned a very SMALL amount of self love. I found out who I was, I was a girl that LOVED vintage, retro, owls, jumping on beds, drinking a little too much with friends and screaming lovely songs, making forts, being a cat lady, not caring if I wore dresses from the 50's, and smiling.. all the time. Now, I tried dating again...only to be crushed by someone who really..well had some problems.
I know this about me finding self love, but this is a love story too. The most important love story of my life, the one that has changed me, and my life forever. Art guy posted something online. He wanted someone to walk with, my life was a mess, I needed a friend, I needed to release stress, he was so EASY to talk to. I was worried, since the last time we had talked, I had gained about 20 lbs. Since high school, I had gained about 40 lbs. We walked. I adored him once more. He told me he loved me one night, it was like a movie. He said that he would wait a million years to be with me, someone with the best personality ever, and the most beautiful girl ever. I loved him. The whole time. I was blind. What was I even thinking?! He loved me the whole time...I didn't bat an eye. He was unconditional, I didn't turn my head to see him, or open my ears to listen to him. I was awful. But he loved me. Fast forward..2012..now. He tells me how beautiful I am, every night. Hes amazing. He supports every idea I have ever thought of. I sometimes put myself down, and he is always there to tell me why im wrong. Love comes in many forms. Self love is the strongest kind of love. Now, I will admit that Id like to lose weight because of the high risk of health problems that run in my family, but...I LOVE my body, no one has hips like these, or my butt, or chest...its my own, and for that im thankful. I have found the two biggest and best types of love ever, and I never want to let either go.
