Feeling genuinely happy has been a pretty much foreign concept to me for…ever. Which sounds very dramatic but in the grand scheme of things I can’t really remember points in my life where I’ve felt genuinely happy and content. Of course I’ve had happy times in my life, lots of them and which I’m very grateful for, but when I think back over the years I guess I kind of see most of them as me…struggling to try and be okay, to try and be happy, to try and be carefree, to try and just get to a point in my life where I can say you know what, I did it, I’m happy, I got there. And as of the moment that I’m writing this…I have. I’m there. Will it last? I really hope so, but even if it doesn’t, I want to document this right now anyway because being happy really is the best feeling in the world. It’s like…constant butterflies, constant excitement, everything is just good. It’s me still being anxious and worrying about things but still being okay underneath because things are going well and I’m happy and god knows I’m accepting it because I deserve it. I think I’ve been not-happy long enough. No more. The other day I was driving home and I just had this moment of realisation where I was like, I’m so happy. I am so happy. I looked around my car and I was like…I’m driving a Range Rover right now. My Range Rover. That I bought. It’s all mine and it’s beautiful and I deserve it. I remember the days when I thought I’d never even be able to drive because the thought of taking my driving test and passing it was a million miles away because I thought I’d just never get the hang of it. I remember buying my first car a few years ago and going for something much smaller because I thought I’d never be able to drive a big car because it was too much for me and I couldn’t manage it. I remember a Range Rover always being my dream car and thinking “one day, one day I’ll get one” and then here I was in this moment at the age of 23, driving the biggest, most beautiful car I’ve ever seen and it’s all mine and I’m so happy because I deserve it. I deserve good things. I am a good person. I am beautiful and I deserve good things and good people around me. I do have good people around me, and they appreciate me and give me love I don’t think I deserve but maybe I do, because maybe I am special in my own way because isn’t everyone? Maybe I should start appreciating myself for all of the things I am rather than all of the things I’m not. I am me. No one else will ever be me, no one else can ever be me, so I should embrace that. I should let people love and appreciate me for who I am because I deserve it. No more excuses. Once you realise that people can love you without the sky caving in, without them running away, without you wanting to hide yourself away from the world afterwards, that’s everything. I went shopping yesterday for the first time in over a year since everything has been shut because of COVID, and I was so happy. Not because of being able to physically shop again, but because during lockdown I’ve really worked on myself – (TW – food, eating, weight) I haven’t spoken about this on here, but the past year for me has been very eventful and very challenging yet rewarding. I’ve really, worked on myself. One day last year, just before lockdown and COVID actually, I told myself that enough was enough, something needed to change because I couldn’t keep living the way that I was, I didn’t deserve to keep doing that to myself. I deserved to love myself more than that. And so I did, I started to change. Drastically. Have I relapsed? Many times. It’s not been easy and it’s been a struggle, mentally more than anything, it’s been draining and exhausting because it’s a silent battle you’re fighting. I am the only one in this body and therefore I’m the only one who understands this body, some days I wake up and can’t get out of bed because some days this body is not a good place to be. Some days I wake up with crippling anxiety because food is not on the cards today and my brain is going into overdrive. It makes me act out, it makes me cry, it makes me go to bed at 7pm and not want to wake up for a week. But I did it. I got there. I’m getting there. Yesterday I walked around the shop catching glimpses of myself in the mirror and doing double takes because the person reflecting back at me was a completely different girl. It was picking up sizes in the shop that I apparently now am, but thinking they were still way too small for me because of my body dysmorphia. It was having to multiply downsize because I finally had the realisation that actually, I was even smaller than I thought. I knew I was smaller now because of the changes I’ve made, but not that small. It was my mum having to pick out the sizes for me because I was way off with every measurement, because I didn’t know what size I was, how small I now was. It was walking around the shop knowing that I could then pick out anything I wanted and feel comfortable wearing it on this body, putting things in my basket that I used to only ever dream of wearing but now knowing I was the “right size” (psa no such thing) for it and could pull it off. It was picking up small sizes and thinking actually, I still think even this is too big – it was knowing my body and the way it now is and realising that after seeing the clothes and sizes in front of me, maybe I really have achieved a lot. Maybe I really have done more than I thought. It was knowing I could go home and wear those clothes straight away, rather than waiting patiently for the day I might hopefully fit into them.
Body dysmorphia is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone, the fact I can give myself a panic attack just by looking at my own reflection in the mirror is still scary to me, and hearing everyone say how skinny I am yet constantly arguing with them saying they’re just saying that etc. is exhausting. I feel like my life right now consists of people complimenting me and saying how well I look and me just rejecting and batting it all away, it’s me arguing with people over how much weight I have left to lose (in everyone else’s opinion – none) and just arguing with them all in general because I think I’m one thing (bad) and everyone else can see me as something else (good). It’s hoping that one day I can get to their side and see myself for what I actually am. But yesterday in that shop I think I got a glimpse of how my life could be very soon, and I was so very happy. And then I drove home in my Range Rover and the happiness started all over again, and I was proud of myself for everything and thought look at what you’ve achieved Chlo, look at what you’ve given yourself, look at what you’ve done for yourself. You should be so proud of that.
I deserve love and appreciation because everyone does, and once you let that in and allow yourself to be loved for who you are and allow yourself to feel proud of what you’ve achieved, everything just falls into place. It’s like you suddenly just let all the light in and the world is now in colour.
I’ve always said I’ve found it easier to write about sadness than I do happiness, but now I’m beginning to think that that’s just because I’ve never felt proper happiness before, because now that I have…writing about it is the easiest thing in the world. I could go on like this forever.
We accept the love we think we deserve.
I deserve more than I will ever know, and you do too.
All my love,