As I stare at myself in my mirror, the saggy skin on my legs, the scars, bruises, and discoloration are clearer than ever. The rolls on my tummy are distinguishable, my arms flabby, my face rounder. I can see myself. All I can think is that I'm fat.
The many months of isolation caused binge eating and ignoring all consequences. Now as I look at myself, I badly longed for those days where I had a chance of simply not being to. Scrolling through Instagram and Snapchat, displaying the endless pretty faces, perfect bodies, and beauty standard that I can never reach. I admit that before this isolation, I never thought that I was capable of despising my own body that housed my very own soul, my energy, and my ability to love.
The mirror displayed an imperfect being,
Messy hair, saggy shirt, and sad face.
Never forget that this very own body housed
The sense of comfort, love, and passion that you feel.
Every single scar represents inclusive battles that you survived on your own,
It travels on your arms, legs, hips, a battle although ill.
Turn around, see those legs that allowed you to run, walk, and move.
Turn around and look at the arms that pushed, pulled, and placed.
Your chest protects your heart, your heart that beats nothing but for you.
It’s difficult to love what you see through the mirror.
Similar to butterflies, they don’t see their wings,
But everyone sees how beautiful they are.
Some even bring lucks.
You are blinded by your own imperfections,
Almost too blinded that it's all that you see.
I admit that I haven’t been taking care of myself. But like everyone else, I am not perfect, and so are you. Instagram might display the happiest lives, but only through pictures. A Snapchat might show a ten second perfect body. However, your body is not simply a ten second picture. Your body works non stop, 24 hours, all day everyday. Remember that your body is a peaceful home that you should be proud of.
- Angela Lim