For years, I lived under a lie that dictated everything I ate, every workout I did, and every outfit I put on. The lie said: “Once my body looks a certain way, THEN I’ll be confident. THEN I’ll be happy. THEN I’ll be enough.” At my smallest, people told me I had the “dream body.” I had visible abs, lean arms, the flat stomach I thought would finally fix me. And yet—I cried in dressing rooms, deleted every photo, and still hated what I saw in the mirror. At my heaviest, I told myself, “See? Th...
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