Hello.

If you are into conversations that are habitually disruptive, welcome to the Confessions of a

Crapie Christian, the Speakeasy edition.

When I tell you that I am 34 years old, and I think I have hated my body since I was 20,

that is not an exaggeration.

I know I started hating my body before I got married.

Probably was like a size 10, maybe a size 8 on a good day.

Not that we necessarily adhere to the construct of pant sizes because you can pick up a size

8 from old Navy and a size 8 from American Eagle and there are two different sizes.

I am just giving this for general, you know, mental picture here.

So have two babies, have a slew of mental health issues, a slew of actual, you know, physical

health issues.

And the cherry on top of all of that is that I am completely stuck in this loop of

diet culture and diet cycles and hating my body and desperately wanting it to change

and thinking that once it does, then I will feel beautiful, I will feel worthy, I will

feel like when I walk into a room that I deserve to be there, that I am worthy of being

there, that people will take me seriously because my body is smaller.

These are all legitimate thoughts that I have had about my body for.

We're going to give a loose estimate of the last 14 years.

How much I hated my body tainted every single moment, my wedding, my children being born,

every good thing that has happened in my career, I was, yes, very excited and capable

of celebrating it, but also simultaneously trying to make sure that I could hide my body

...