I was late in church today and wasn’t able to catch up with the rest of my family until the end of the mass. When I did, they were all smiles, with my mom exclaiming, “You look sexy today!”

Sexy? No, I wasn’t. I just looked–and felt–better. It’s both surprising and amazing how much a little makeup and dressing up can make you feel more confident, more beautiful, and sometimes a much better person than you are when you wake up. This is the exact thought that ran in my head.

I am not sexy. I am overweight, though I’m working at it right now. I may be about five years ago when I would starve myself and exercise for hours. But then, before, I felt more miserable.

I remember when I was in high school, I used to drop by SM Cebu and weigh myself in that large stainless steel scale outside National Bookstore. Each weigh cost 5 pesos, and surely I spent a lot. Yet I didn’t mind. I was happy every time it told me I was underweight. Yes, it made me feel so relieved to be far below that what’s good for me, what’s ideal for my age and height.

Worse, even when I was already so underweight, some would still call me “chubby” and at times in-your-face “fat.” It always bothered and frustrated me. I didn’t want to be chubby, let alone fat. I didn’t even want to be sexy. All I wanted was to be thin, and the process of getting into that point filled my life with a lot of insecurities. That emotional pain I carried through for more than 10 years of my life, and it’s only in the last 3 years that I slowly learned to let go of it.

I am not saying I feel good being like this. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be avoiding rice and watching what I eat. I am not comfortable with my weight, but I’m also past the need to look what others want me to look. I’m past the pressure, I’m past the insecurities. I am at a point when I am learning to love myself more, and that fuels me to take care of myself a lot better.


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