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I grew up with a big nose. It was my most prominent feature on my face. People joked it was the one thing my father could identify that I was his true daughter as. It was always a thing, the nose. As far back as I can remember, I wanted to fix the nose and my father even agreed to pay for it. It was pulled, in an attempt to make it less flat or longer, I don’t know which and it didn’t work. When my siblings made fun of me, it was with the nose. I was coined ‘Penelope’…

For as long as I remember, I have been risk averse. I wouldn’t reach out to people if the outcome may not be reasonable, I do not gamble, I don’t invest (except the mandatory 401k), heck I don’t even play video games because of the fact that I may lose the game.

It has been my anxiety, jumping in to protect me. That fight or flight response that our brains are made to fulfill. Except I never fought, I fled. The older I’ve gotten, the less risk I’ve taken. I’ve not taken risks with relationships, I’ve not taken risks with…

If you couldn’t tell by the title of this, yes I may have some body image issues- Also I’m fat. Yes, I said it- FAT. FAT fat Fat fat fat. I’m still trying to own the word and not base my entire identity around it.

Photo by Siora Photography on Unsplash

For as long as I can remember, my body image always had something to do with my weight, either by my family, school bullies, friends or even myself. My mum loves to tell stories of younger me- skinny, who looked almost malnourished. Apparently, from a very young age I only ate: 1. Food without color…

Bubu

Not a writer, not-not a writer

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