Meet Mr. Belly

As soon as I wrote the tittle I wondered why I identify a part of my body as male. I won’t go into this right now, although it seems as though I should. Let’s put a pin in it.

Anyhow, Mr. Belly has been with me ever since I was told women shouldn’t have large bellies. Supposedly it’s OK to have a large ass and thighs the size of tree trunks as long as there's no belly. Everyone who knows me has heard this story a trillion times before and yet I keep telling it because I believed it. I still do, it’s how I measure my beauty.

For that reason I never treated Mr. Belly with any respect. I tried losing him in every way possible. Diets, exercise, big jumpers, simply denying I have him so I guess it’s no wonder he’s just getting bigger. Maybe he’s just defending himself.

To be honest I put him through a lot. There were hard choices, fears, tears, goodbyes and on top of it all pure hatred focused only on him.

I’m going on holiday tomorrow, which means bathing suits and I feel more vulnerable than ever.

I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror and realised I am tired of body shaming myself. I know it’s superficial but I need to expose myself. It feels as though it might help so I want to try it. In reality it’s nothing special, but I can’t think of another way to sort this out.

Mr. Belly, you have been with me all my life and you’re here to stay, which is almost beautiful. I will do my best to embrace you, care for you and love you.