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I love to take naked selfies!

Frank story about a complex way to a healthy self-assessment.

The American journalist and the blogger frankly tell Elite Daily about the experience of acceptance of herself.

When I for the first time received my new MacBook Pro, I turned on the camera and began to analyze the body carefully. I undressed, clicked on the red button. But I removed myself naked not to send someone in love to me. The matter is that I terribly did not like what I saw on the screen.

    My naked body frightened me.

I long tried to see myself beautiful, but as a result was only finally convinced that my body is awful. I removed all files and covered myself as it is possible a large amount of fabric. I fought against a dysmorphia long before learned this term.

Our family was in panic from diets, me with the sister. In family kitchen there was nothing sweet, any carbohydrates and snack. I considered calories, but became more and more dissatisfied appearance. In high school of the relation with a steel body even more painful.

My body seemed to me prison and what costs between me and my happiness. Kept to a diet, broke and began to eat everything. My asexual body became for me the enemy No 1. Then there was an amusing thing – the body began to change. I began to grow in high gear. According to the American standards of beauty, I became more attractive.

    On the way to school I heard compliments from guys.

Boys began to invite me to appointments. But their attention and approval did not matter. I still took offense at the body. No flattery could force me to consider itself worthy love, not to mention desire.

In college when at me after all sexual life began, I nevertheless felt awkwardly. I could not make love to the turned-on light. And if my boyfriend told something about my appearance, I sharply shuddered. “What happened?” – he asked, being afraid to upset me. But I could not let in anybody the head in which the distorted mirror reigned.

boobs selfie

In the second semester made me the diagnosis “an allergy to gluten”. He forced me to reconsider the relations with food. They became more reasonable. To disaccustom itself to negative thoughts and habits, however, was longer process. Fortunately, I found out that I can fight against the hatred moments to myself by means of yoga and therapy. But though I was at that time technically healthier, than ever, I knew that I still avoid collision with the corporal essence bluntly.

Several years later I appeared again there from where began: naked, scared and stared in a lens of the camera. I returned to parents to save money. On a twist of fate, I even stood in the same bedroom. Changed very much: I left college, I had serious relations, and I began the first work on a full rate.

But I continued to protect myself from the body. Having undressed, I installed the timer, closed eyes, held the breath and waited for a flash sound. On a fraction of a second I began to worry that all work which I did over myself both physical, and intellectual, will be vain. And on a photo, I will see the monster.

Indecisively approached phone, the forefinger was going to send a photo to a basket. But when I looked at the screen, I sharply exhaled. For some reason I hardly recognized myself. The body in which I lived all the life suddenly looked differently.

    Lines of hips and back seemed graceful now, but not awful. On skin there was an unexpected sexual reflection.

But the almost inaudible smile upon the face was the biggest contrast. I at last looked happy, even sure. And this confidence radiated beauty.

Exposure in itself did not save me from a dysmorphia. I perceive the naked photos as rehabilitation. This long travel to, lifelong. It allows me to study my sexuality outside the relations. Thanks to it I learned that the sensuality arises from within. Through a photo I approach accepting each inch of the body. To learn the essence – naked, open, vulnerable. And each step towards to itself real is felt by me as a holiday, as a small victory. I do not worry any more about that I can be unloved. Because instead of studying the body, I study love to myself now. And for me it is enough.