Radiant and Real True Reflections

A Blog About Tough Topics

Writing usually comes pretty easily to me. I am struggling today because I am a seasoned and spry 69 years young, and I still check myself every morning in the mirror. No, not for the normal, something in my teeth, or a messy hair bun, but a side view of my stomach and legs. That's right, I struggle with body dysmorphia. If you don't know what it is, count yourself blessed, it sucks to go through life always thinking you look fat, not thick, not a little chunky or even plump, fat. What I do know is that there are many of us in a silent place because we don't know others who suffer from it. We are the quiet ones.

Some days, I must put on six different pairs of pants and four different tops. Why? Because the pants feel tight, show a stomach roll, a fat thigh, or make you look bloated. I wear a size 6. The tops sometimes do not cover enough. They can show my stomach rolls, be cut too low, look too small or not give me enough coverage over my fat middle section. All thoughts and pictures I envision while I dress for my job. It is a disaster some days.

Let me say this. I have suffered from this for over 50 years now. I doubt anyone in my family really knew. It wasn't really a thing in the 60s. I could cinch my waist so tight I could barely breathe, but it limited my food intake for sure. It didn't show because I would wear baggy shirts to cover my midsection. In my teens, my disorder was more anorexic and bulimic in nature. I took a lot of laxatives and speed and taught myself how to eat and throw it back up without drawing attention to myself when I was young.

The dysmorphia kicked in when I was bullied at a young age, made fun of for a large nose, and molested by my gym teacher for about two years. I retreated into my own world and became quite good at one-way conversations, dreaming of ways to run away from the ugly in me. Avoiding mirrors, reflections of any kind, and making up my own visions of myself.

No one really noticed. Sadly, that actually worked in my favor at the time.

When my grandma experienced some heavy news and ended up in the hospital, I prayed for direction. Her situation was becoming dire. She wasn't in a place to accept her body images or that there was a real problem until she was told her body was beginning to shut down. Functions were no longer viable, eating wasn’t a choice, and nourishment was mandatory to live. She was truly in a fight for her life.

I visited her in the hospital and we talked. Some of it was superficial and the normal banter with a Mee Maw and her grand, but some of it was real talk. When she was released and home for a while, getting herself and daily plan together, I called, and we talked for a long while. I checked in by text a few times, and we met and had coffee and talked about an idea that would benefit both of us.

That's what this is really all about. Why I am here, writing this today. To help ourselves, it is really a great energy flow to help others. I know there are many of us out there. All ages suffer quietly with forms of this disorder. I want to provide a safe space to gather, to vent, to share, and most of all, to heal.

I will soon be posting a Facebook page with this title: Radiant and Real True Reflections.

Please feel free to join; it will be a private page, with the purpose of healing for all.

Sending love and light,

Roseanne