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Writer's pictureStefanie Palmer

My Journey with My Body

Updated: Nov 13, 2020

Today I want to talk about body image, well want is somewhat of a relative term. I don’t exactly enjoy talking about my body but I have come a long way. Here’s somewhat of a back story, I started developing boobs at the age of 9 in the THIRD GRADE, I started my cycle when I was 11, the summer before 6th grade, by middle school I was a C cup with a “bubble butt” as the boys used to say. I looked MUCH older than my age which came with its own problems. By high school, age 16, I was a DD, and I always considered myself to be “fat” because I had the body of woman and my friends had the bodies of young girls. Rumors began in elementary school about me and continued to worsen as I got older. Anywhere from me having a three way at the age of 13 (FALSE by the way) to me being a whore and going after other girl’s boyfriends. I knew who I was, and I knew what I did and didn’t do, I hadn’t had my first kiss until I was 13, meanwhile I had friends who were already having sex. Boys wanting to “go out” with me because they thought I was just as active, little did they know, my parents were STRICT AF and I wasn’t about that. When I was in 8th grade, I was sexually harassed by one of my teachers. He would write notes on my papers, make inappropriate comments and I was terrified to tell my parents because of what would happen. When I finally did tell my parents, he began to treat me poorly but it was for the best. That man was a predator and had I not had my own voice to stand up for myself and to tell my parents, who knows what would have happened.


Fast forward to my junior/senior year of high school, I developed an eating disorder. I got down to 115 lbs, and anyone who knows me in real life knows that is not something that is feasible based on how I am built. I am more of a 160 and up kinda girl, while I am not considered full figured or plus size, I am also not small. Think Marilyn Monroe, size 12, tits, ass, and a tummy lol! Okay, back to where I was, I digress. I had an eating disorder for about a year, I was restricting and eating MAYBE 600 calories a day and doing 1000 crunches to get the “I’m a slave for you” Brittny Spears abs. Fast forward to my first year in college, I joined the dance team, they made us weigh in IN FRONT OF EVERYONE and I weighed in at 134lbs and I was mortified. I was 134lbs, what in the ever loving fuck was I mortified about? I’ll tell you, I was convinced I was obese, I was bigger than my girlfriends and they all had boyfriends, so again, I was convinced it was because I was “fat”. So much of my self-worth was based on my weight, how my body looked, what size clothes I wore etc.


I have always been self-conscious but tend to present as confident, lemme tell ya, it’s a façade. At least it was for a very, very long time of my life. I have been 115 lbs, I have been 234 lbs, and everything in between. You know what’s interesting, no matter how much I weigh, how I see myself in the mirror is not how others see me. My best friend would tell me I look tiny or fit or whatever and I would see huge. When I started posting my fitness journey online people would say “oh my god, you’re goals” and I’m like “um what?!” The moral of the story is, the scale, the mirror, YOUR BRAIN, they DO NOT DEFINE YOU. How you feel about yourself as a fucking human MATTERS, how you talk to yourself MATTERS. For the longest time I would berate myself when I wouldn’t work out or if I ate something “bad” thinking I was motivating myself to do better, guess what, I wasn’t. I was causing so much harm to myself without even knowing. I love my body for allowing me to live life every day, I love my body for creating my son’s life, I love my body for allowing me to heal and teach others how to love themselves, I love my body for what it has given me and what is has allowed me to do. I am covered in stretch marks, tattoos, dimples, and self-tanner, and guess what? It’s ALL MINE and I am proud of it!


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