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New year’s resolutions - this year I’m trying moderation

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January. The month where we turn into nasty, spiteful, hate-filled, judgemental and downright horrible people. Not towards others but towards ourselves and all in the persuit of creating our better self.

I’m so exhausted from all the self-hatred. I grew up with my mum constantly berating herself. She was always saying she was too fat for this that or the other. She couldn’t wear anything sleeveless because the tops of her arms were too big and she only wore dark colours and v-necks because they were slimming and she never, ever got her legs out in case anyone caught sight of her varicose veins (which are absolutely not visible to the naked eye). In short she dressed to hide her perceived ‘bad bits’ and never to accentuate her very real ‘good bits’. Growing up with someone who thinks like that and talks like that rubs off on your own perception of yourself and not in a good way.

Years ago during a particularly low point, I saw a therapist who got me to bring in a photograph of myself as a kid. I chose one of me in my school uniform, I was probably about five or six and was standing by the curtains in our dining room. I had a comedy ginger bowl-cut hair do and the biggest blue eyes staring out of the most innocent looking little face. My therapist asked me to look at that photo of myself and tell that little girl all the horrible things I felt about myself – tell her how she wasn’t as good as others, how she wasn’t clever or pretty or funny. How she didn’t deserve to be happy. How she was too fat to do anything.

I just couldn’t do it. That little girl wasn’t any of those awful things. It really made me realise that........

© Yorkshire Evening Post