I’ve chatted about my insecurities IRT weight a couple of times. As someone who had been the smallest in the room, the biggest in the room and now, pretty easily lost in a room, I know too well how the way a skirt fits can change your whole mood/day/how ppl interact with you.

Recently I’ve started wearing my clothes again, asking a whole different question when I stare myself down in a mirror.
I now ask… Does this look cute instead of, “Do I look fat in this?”

As someone who has always loved fashion, clothes and trying out different looks it’s quite sad that in the last few years my main task was “camouflage”. Hide the tummy the arms and even the face.

Years ago before I lost my son, before I started popping pills like TicTacs and collecting chronic illnesses like Pokémon this wasn’t the case.

I’ve always been fairly awkward and anxious (since kindergarten, I kid you not) but I would have fun with my clothes. Coloured tights, slinky tops, wild prints and upcycled outfits were my jam. But then I changed, I started dressing to hide, to blend, to not draw attention.

My hair being the only touch of individuality I still held on to, then some lipstick, living like a real-life head and shoulder picture.

But that’s changing. I’ve almost died three times now, seriously, I wake up some days unable to move from the couch having to set up my laptop on a wheeled table while I wear a back brace. Other days my face and hands are so swollen I can hardly recognize myself. It might not look like it to critical eyes but I have no appetite and am fed thanks to my husband and mom nagging and my blood sugar causing severe dizziness. So life has been a fun fight for dominance between my body and my mindset. A bikini body is no longer the goal, working body is.

So here’s the thing… The days where I wake up feeling like a person, I’m thankful, I’m glad, so I put on something cute and I don’t hide. I laugh from the pit of my stomach, I eat without guilt and I pat myself on the back.

I ignore people saying my tummy looks big because I know that I have a chronic problem with my stomach and managed to eat without bloating and vomiting today. I don’t mind my chubby arms and legs because with osteoarthritis some days they don’t even work so jumping and holding and creating is way more important than a slinky top.

My chubby cheeks are okay because I don’t have daily migraines anymore. Yes my hair is still thinning, my skin is blotchy and my nails are fragile and for some reason, I can’t grow hair on my arms and legs (a weird complaint I know) but my smile is still genuine and my heart is still overflowing with love.

So I’m not going to punish myself anymore. I’m not going to hide and apologize for my presence. And by gosh I’m gonna dress cute.

Not going to lie I still struggle with pictures, I feel misshapen and on swollen days my face feels like it belongs to someone else, I still have my depressed; “what happened to me” moments, but if the last few years have taught us anything it is that life is short and I don’t plan on dying without ever wearing the pretty skirt.