Can we talk about one year ago?

The holidays really get to me. I’m not a huge fan of them and I always get kind of depressed. But one year ago. One year ago was different. I had a wonderful boyfriend who I thought could do no wrong. I was 70 lbs lighter than I am in this picture. I was on my way to see him in Atlanta to get my first ever New Years Eve kiss.

Things changed after we met. I mean, it’s kind of normal for things like that to happen in long distance relationships. Maybe I wasn’t what he expected or… I really don’t know. After I came home things changed. We talked less and less every day. I was really stressed at work, and I was dealing with a severe depression.

I overdosed. I was in the hospital waiting for the psychiatric nurse, and they left me alone with my meds, so I took a week worth of Seroquel (as I was recently taken off my anti-depressant by my doctor to “deal with my anxiety”, and the withdrawal pains were killing me, I thought I was better off dead). They gave me charcoal, and sent me home with my mom, and a stack of papers on “how to deal with depression and anxiety” and an application for brief treatment.

It was around that time that my then boyfriend decided that he “needed some time” to think about our relationship. What he actually meant by time was that he would never speak to me again, no matter how much I begged and pleaded, emailed, called, texted. It was over.

I was off work for 3 weeks during withdrawal, my boyfriend dumped me, I wanted to die, and nothing was going right.

Then I got a call from the brief treatment centre. I was to see a woman named Inga for 8 weeks. During that time, my doctor changed my medication around and I got back on an anti-depressant. Inga challenged me every session to see things that I couldn’t see in myself. She pushed me to get through everything. The breakup, the medication change, we worked together to make me feel human again.

But as you know, many anti-depressant combinations can make you gain weight. And gain I did. I went quickly from a size 10 to a size 14. Then a 16. Then a 20. No matter how hard I worked out, ran, walked, gym-ed, I couldn’t lose the weight. I had a choice. I could feel bad about myself, hate my body, cry about it… or I could accept it.

And that’s how this blog came about. As a celebration of every cellulite dimple, stretch mark, and extra pound. I’ve found resources to find awesome clothes, and found a place in the plus size community with amazing friends and supporters to boot. 

So this is me. This photo was originally taken as a test shot when I was doing my dress photo shoot but I loved the way it turned out. I loved the curve of my belly, and my stretch marks, and my pretty bra and my confidence that glows through.

One year ago I may have been thinner. But I was definitely not the amazing person I am today.

*do not remove the text from this photo*

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  1. sirjuggles reblogged this from katherinegryffindor and added:
    Kitten! Please read! For me =)
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    I see pictures of bigger girls all the time, and I love them. But I rarely see the stretch marks that I have. Sometimes...
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    ^Reblogging especially for the story. Wow. You’re beautiful, and important. I’m sorry you had to go through all that....
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    Lady is a certified badass. Right on.