I miss being normal.
I miss eating meals cooked by my family.
I miss going out to eat spontaneously.
I miss cooking with my mom and eating it.
I miss getting excited over new foods.
I miss sitting down with my family and sharing random stories over the dinner table.
I miss seeing food as nothing more, just food.
I miss eating when I was hungry.
I miss being normal.

How are you?
don’t tell me that you’re doing good
or that you are fine,
you and I both know that you are so far from both of those things,
tell me,
when was the last time you thought about death?
When was the last time you cried and what finally made the tears fall after all that time?
what is your story of loss?
What words break you?
What words put you back together?
When was the first time you understood the depth of the word “goodbye?”
When was the first time the only thing you could do was lay on the floor and cry because nothing else in the world made sense but brokenness?
When was the last time you really and truly laughed?
Can you remember that far back?
What was on your mind when you got those scars on your leg?
What lies have you believed lately?
When was the first time you understood what “I love you” meant?
Who made you so broken?
Have you even tried to put yourself back together?
Tell me,
tell me,
do you love yourself?
how much of your skin can you find constellations in?
have you ever tried to understand your eyes?
have you pressed your fingertips to your own lips hoping nothing else mattered in the world if your lips were your own?
have you ever made yourself believe the lie that you aren’t worth it?
how is the weather in your heart?
is it a hurricane or a tsunami?
is there fog surrounding your soul?
have you ever loved another more than you loved to breathe?
when was the last time you really and truly believed that your life was worth living?
I’ve never really been good at small talk (via rabbrakha)
An amazing thing happens when you get honest with yourself and start doing what you love, what makes you happy. Your life literally slows down. You stop wishing for the weekend. You stop merely looking forward to special events. You begin to live in each moment and you start feeling like a human being. You just ride the wave that is life, with this feeling of contentment and joy. You move fluidly, steadily, calm and grateful. A veil is lifted, and a whole new perspective is born.

When I weighed 140 pounds,
I wanted a gap between my thighs.
I wanted light to shine through that gap
to get rid of the darkness in my soul.

I wanted to be light.
I wanted to fly
to get rid of the heaviness
weighing down on my bones.

I wanted to see the white
on my rib cages
so my mind wouldn’t seem so black.

But what nobody warns you is,
the only thing you are starving yourself of
is happiness.
For every meal that goes down the toilet,
a part of your sanity goes with it.
You do not get lighter, darling.
You get even heavier.
Your bones get weaker
and they will break at any second.
By thinking you can’t control anything else,
you try to control your food,
your weight,
your body.

But what they don’t tell you is
you lose control
of everything.

You were so desperate for light
that you let yourself be thrown
into the dark
just to watch the flames
of hell burning.

What They Don’t Tell You (via expresswithsilence)


Love your body in whatever state it is in. Hold it, nourish it, smile at it, compliment it, rest it, let it dance wild, let it paint and write and draw and cook and play and appreciate. Treat it like you would your child, let it flourish. Treat it like you think it’s beautiful, because however you see it now, however bruised or scared it is, however much space it may take up, it is beautiful.