I love my body. I hate my body. It is a mix. I love my body when I'm alone with her, when no one else can see me and she reassures me I am perfect. I hate my body when I'm with people I know that when I say I'm fat they at me and say yes, it makes me feel horrible, or with my grandma when I say I'm fat and she doesn't speak, just judging me, looking at me judgingly when I go to get seconds while we have dinner or I say I am still hungry after we have just eaten and she is full. I love my body. I hate my body. No, others hate my body. Which then makes me feel sorry for having the body I do. I am sorry that they haven't accepted me enough to realize: I am not my body. I am not the fat I carry. I am not the number of calories I eat. I am not my body. I love my body.
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Sorry if this sucks which it probably does
