the fight

We've hit May, it's time for shorts and tank tops and it's pretty much bathing suit season. Why do these things bother me so much? I would rather hide my skin than let others see my scars. What do I say to the people who ask about my scars? Do I tell them I spent the past seven years fighting a demon inside of my own head? Should I be open about the harm I did to my body? Will they understand why I starved myself to feel something? How do I explain the excruciating pain I felt that made me want to not carry on?
I'm not sure they will understand why, and that scares me. Having these signs of a struggle of my skin makes me self-conscious. Sometimes I don't want that to be the case. I'm not always proud of the progress I have made in the past couple of years. Somedays I would rather not have the scars and the stretch marks to show my journey.

REFRAMING TIME...
My story is a part of me, it's a part of my body!!
Scars don't make me any less worthy of love than others.
I faced the fight of mental illness and I am still standing.
Flesh should not be shamed, it was created beautifully by God to be seen.
The way I look is not who I am.

This summer will not break me and send me crawling back to my eating disorder. Having a "summer body" isn't necessary. Striving aggressively for a certain body to feel comfortable around others should be a societal norm. Why would God make different body types and sizes just for one to be idolized over the others? He made everyone uniquely beautifully. God made me the way I'm supposed to be and I don't want someone else to tell me my body is wrong. Every part of me is beautiful, and that includes my scars.