I'm about to unpack the most messed-up part of my psyche, so if you don't know me very well, don't mind this. This blog is my journal ok.

I look a lot like my mother. Nowadays, I'm told I look like her when she was a teenager. But when I was younger, my dad would often see me from behind and think I was her. It was hard on my self-esteem. Being mistaken for a middle-aged woman. It doesn't happen to me anymore. 

I've known for the longest time that my mother has body image issues. She followed extreme diets and home workout plans, and she regularly took "before and after" photos in the mirror in front of me. My mother showed me, through her actions, that she believed her body was something that needed fixing. Indirectly, she showed me that my body also needed fixing. 

I have internalized fatphobia that's directed towards myself. I would never take this out on other people because I have something called empathy. But there seems to be an exception. The voice in my mind views my mother as an extension of myself. My insecurities are a projection of hers. I've grown out of the bad eating habits I had as a child, and I'm more rigid with my habits now. The voice in my mind holds her to these rigid standards. She sometimes falls short of them (she doesn't know that she's being held to them). My mind perceives her as a mirror image of myself. She reflects my worst insecurities because they come from her. The voice in my mind treats her like it would have treated me. I can tolerate being mean to myself, but I resent myself so much for being mean to her. 

I'm still an insecure person. I waste so much mental effort on thoughts about my body. My insecurities are remnants of past ones. They're not really perceptible to an outsider. No physical transformation will erase the insecure girl from within this body. 

Chat don't clip that