Body Fear and Shower Day – your worth is not in pounds of flesh

Today was shower day.

I hate shower day.

I have been an anorexic, bulimic, body dysmorphic for as long as I can remember.  I remember intentionally overeating at my seventh birthday.  I remember testing to see how long I could go without food when I was eight, faking a stomach ache to ensure I wouldn’t have to eat dinner.  I remember hating my body before I even knew what all my parts were for, feeling fat inside my still-from-the-little-girls-section jeans.

The sexual abuse started at age six.

The physical abuse started at age seven.

The scars and stains that you cannot see, the ones I’m JUST NOW starting to see myself, are still there.

I really, really, REALLY hate shower day.

On shower day, I have to get naked.  Read More


How to Love Your Body – photos and fear

For those of you that follow, you’ll know all about this.

The Body Image Project


Through this Project, you will construct a deeper level of comfort with and acceptance of your body.  When executed as intended, the Project will help you to develop a relationship with your body that is positive, welcoming, peaceful, and harmonious.


To participate in The Body Image Project, take photos of your body every day, according to the schedule below.  Once you have taken your daily picture, look at it.  REALLY LOOK.  Think about the part of your body you’ve photographed, then sit in meditation or write out answers to the questions that follow.Read More


Owning My Body – No More Hiding

Well, it’s time.

I’ve been putting it off, finding reasons (excuses), staying busy, and telling myself that it doesn’t matter “no one will care anyways,” but it’s time.  It’s time to post a picture of ME.


For as long as I can remember I’ve hated to have my picture taken.  Toward the end of any party or family gathering I would get antsy and flighty because I knew what was coming.

Dad:  “HEY, gather everyone up and go stand over there so I can take your picture.”  (Please notice that was a command, not a question.)

Having been born into a family with a photography-as-a-hobby father and a Japanese mother (the “oooh, tay-koo peeek-cha?” stereotype of Japanese tourists is totally accurate), I had my picture taken a lot.  I had my picture taken WAY more than I was comfortable with.  In fact, I have had my picture taken no less than 1000 times and I hated it every single time.

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