[TW: Self-injury, suicide]
Hello! I just wanted to submit my story here, because this blog is one of the main resons I have learned to accept myself as who I am.
A couple of years ago I was down, like, really down there. I had about five different ideas on how to kill myself, and some of them were tried out. I hurt myself everyday, because I was constantly told I was fat and ugly. It didn’t help growing up in a strick christian family, and slowly realising I was queer. It went as far that I quit school.
I have Hypermobility Syndrome, which, in itself isn’t very severe. But running is a no-can-do when your ankles and knees are spaghetti. Of course able-bodied people had to constantly tell me that it wasn’t real, and dieting + exercise would help.
Two years later, here I am. Alive, proud of my fat ass, and very much in a better place. But it’s kind of sad that the only thing that helped me love my body was total isolation from society. Still, this has also inspired me to help smash the ableism and fat-shaming that pollutes people’s minds.
And let me tell you something, dieting didn’t work, nor did exercise alone. The one thing that (literally) got me back up on my feet, was the lovely, open-minded people who helped me get some badass ankle supporters. Today, I run and walk regularly. Not to meet society’s expectation of a healthy body, but to keep my joints from turning to spaghetti again. And, to be honest, I don’t want to lose weight. I want to show up in a running championship next year with all my 90 kgs, and kick ass.