To my past self.

“Dear Daniella, let her go” I said to myself as I tried to burn the pain away in a scorching hot shower. “Let that version of you go—it was over six years ago” I continued to remind myself.

That competitor in me—gosh, she was confident.

I did a meditation/body scanning exercise where I asked my body what it felt like to feel joy, confidence, and lastly, healed. I felt the different emotions react very differently throughout my body, as I visualized memories of the past.

I saw myself standing, and strutting my stuff on stage. I remembered doing nude photoshoots and absolutely loving the results. I remembered how proud I was of my hard work and efforts, when I put a half naked photo of me on my (at-the-time) boyfriends T-shirt for a surprise gift. I remember what it felt like to practice my posing routine with extra small cheekies and a sports bra on, at the gym. I remember how much I loved the attention, and how confident I was to crush my workouts in the gym. I enthusiastically would bust my ass through different, attention-grabbing fitness routines, purely because I wasn’t afraid of people seeing me. I remembered it all—and it stung quite deep.

Gosh, what a time it was to be alive—to feel confident in nearly every outfit worn, with every action taken. I wasn’t afraid of being seen, but rather, embraced it. It was so satisfying to feel my hard work and results be noticed and appreciated. I felt like the things, tasks, accomplishments, and body I had worked so hard for, were finally being fully appreciated and embraced.

“Maybe that’s why I can’t look at myself now” … “because that girl doesn’t exist anymore, and because I can’t even pretend to be that version of me again”.

Sure, we can all restrict our calories and overtrain until we faint (been there), but once we are past that version of us, it’s hard to go back. You see, psychologically, we know better. We know how truly chaotic and utterly stupid the restriction, binge-eating, body dysmorphia, attention-high, and over-training were. We know that deep down that we cried a lot, counted meticulously, and had anxiety out the wazoo. But the physical appearance and reminiscing about that past physique often make us forget the true hurt. It blinds us from the facade we were living.

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You see, that’s what makes this transition so hard. Clothes don’t fit us the same, we constantly have to update our wardrobe with things that fit and flatter us, and our bodies are constantly changing. We feel too embarrassed, ashamed, and too insecure in our new skin to even behave in the same manor as we once did. We feel inadequate.

Some people say, “being shredded sucked, I was constantly miserable and tired and I was really weak in the gym”, but see, I’m here weighing more than before saying “being uncomfortable sucks. I lifted heavier, performed better, and had the same energy as I do now (if not more) when I was lean. The confidence radiated through me like a white light in the darkness and I felt fully unstoppable”.

Maybe that’s why some people just don’t understand why my struggle with myself and my body have lasted so long. Maybe this is why my internal world and external world are constantly at odds.

Sure, it’s been years since I went on stage—but its also been years since I felt insanely confident and proud of not only the body I was wearing, but of the person I was displaying. Do I still have good qualities? Of course, Do I try to recognize and remind myself of then everyday? Absolutely. But sometimes, sometimes, the truth just hits you like Miley Cyrus’ wrecking ball. Sometimes, you just have to own up to the fact that: you are insecure and miss your fucking past self.

There. I said it.

I miss the shredded, athletic, charismatic, outgoing, spontaneous, adventurous girl I was. I miss the girl who wasn’t ashamed to look in the mirror, rock a cute outfit, try on fancy clothes, get dressed up or go to the beach. I miss the girl who would kill her workouts, wear her favourite fashion-finds, and buy bright coloured shoes and accessories. I miss the girl who felt capable, unstoppable, and so utterly confident that everything she touched would basically turn to gold.

I miss the girl I was…and thats the truth.

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I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to feel ashamed, embarrassed, or inadequate. I don’t want to shrink my worth because its not as big as it once was. I don’t want to hide in baggy clothing or pretend that everything is fine when it isn’t. I don’t want to make people feel like I’ve got it all together when every once in a while, these days come, too.

I used to cry and beg to be ridden of my eating disorder. But now, I weep in sorrow, begging to not feel the need to hide my worth and value from others.

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Dear friends, if you are struggling, please know that you are not alone.

Although these days aren’t everyday, and although these feeling aren’t as frequent as they once were—they still exist and they still come-and-go.

Please do as I will try to do. Please be kind, practice forgiveness and allow your emotions to be felt and heard. Do as I do, and journal, reflect, feel and heal. Take a hot shower, cry, do a face-mask and pull yourself together.

These feelings won’t last forever, but they will continue to pester you until you fully acknowledge and embrace their existence.

Be strong.

I love you.

xx

Dee