These are all things I was incredibly proud of myself for accomplishing, living, and fulfilling...all of it.
I was proud that I wasn’t succumbing to society’s expectations of needing to be married by 30.
I know the value of making memories versus millions. I know at the end of my life I would be rich in life and love and memories.
I was learning to love myself. Learning to love the body I have been blessed with. Every pound of it.
I found happiness in the ordinary things, the smallest things would make me smile -- from my dog sun bathing and smiling to my gas tank filling up at an even number.
I thought my parents would be proud of how happy I was because I was doing something I loved and was so incredibly passionate about.
I had a job I enjoyed for almost four full years, it may not have paid high and had benefits like a regular 8-5 office job, but the amount of fulfillment I felt every minute on the job and the lives I impacted was priceless to me.
Instead...
My parents -- my dad, refuted and denounced every single one of those things.
He disapproved of the job that filled my bucket. The career I wanted for myself because it was in my heart of hearts to do. I was so incredibly happy with the life I was living and who was in it, but it wasn’t enough. I was learning each day to love my body, embrace my anxiety, and started to live a healthier lifestyle FOR ME -- not for anyone but me. But he constantly ridiculed my weight, even when I felt I was making progress in shedding the pounds he just completely threw all that progress away. He made me hate myself. Hate the way I look. I can’t even stand to look at my own reflection because of that.
I had made all these improvements on my life, only to be stripped of the progress I made and to be utterly discouraged.










