God Doesn’t Make Mistakes

I spent the first 14 years of my life regretting being born.
I hated my parents for “being selfish” by bringing me into this world. Some people cease to have the will to live; I wanted no part of ever existing. The thought of an afterlife made me tired. I just wanted to disappear.
I thought God had made a mistake. Or, if he had purposefully created me, it was just to watch me stumble and fall through life for his own entertainment.
I had an eating disorder for many years. I felt like no one liked me. In my mind, people got sick at the sight of me. So I starved. I changed how I dressed and what I said, hoping someone would be less appalled with me.
Those were my darkest days.
But then something changed. I studied the scriptures and sought to understand God. Slowly, through my conversion of many years, God changed my heart. I started seeing myself as a person. Then as a daughter of God. Now as an heir in His Kingdom–destined for sanctification and glory. How did that happen?
I started loving myself.
I took care of myself. I fed myself physically and spiritually. I started learning the impact I had on others.  I ate right, ran in races, slept for the first time in years, and got healthy. I lost 60 pounds. But even that wasn’t really important to me anymore. I felt good. I could look in the mirror and see a person, instead of my enemy.
Fast forward to college. My social anxiety peaked. I fell under pressure. But what’s the difference? I knew who I was. I was comfortable with my identity.
Weight is just a number. Curves are just a shape.
For the next three years of college, I  gained over 40 pounds. My energy levels were shot. My motivation was drained by depression.
After being diagnosed with several physical and mental illnesses, I started to take 7 prescription medications. Weird side effects all over. I weighed more than I ever had.
But I was okay with it. I still felt beautiful. I didn’t feel the need to hide.
Learn to be kind to yourself.
It would be easy for me to be frustrated with myself. Why can’t I talk to my friends? Why do I have to isolate myself? Why am I afraid of everything? Why can’t I just go work out again? 
But I chose to be kind. We will try again tomorrow. Tell them you love them and they will understand. Do what you can, push yourself, but don’t break yourself.
God didn’t make a mistake when he made me. He put the upmost care and consideration into my personality, body type, and physical trials. He created me perfectly. And he wants me to respect His creation and be kind to myself. Through that process, I have come to the most peace and joy I have ever felt in my life.
I’m overweight. I’m weak. I’m always tired. But I am beautiful. I overthink. I’m sassy. I’m either too quiet or too loud. But people love me anyway.
Sure, I hope to be able to run races again and do Zumba and all the other things I used to enjoy so much. I wouldn’t mind getting back in a single-digit pant size. But for now, I’m grateful with the body God has blessed me with. I’m grateful that while I still have to deal with the consequences of how I used to treat my body, that God has allowed me to keep it.
The world will tell you that you’re either too skinny or too fat. Find someone who doesn’t care, love yourself, and that is all that matters.
Be kind to yourself. Love yourself. Embrace your curves (or lack thereof) and see yourself as the miracle you truly are.

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