Don’t Judge Me By The Size of My Jeans

Itwas the usual weekly family gathering. A sister-in-law quietly whispered to me that she had had Bariatric surgery to reduce the size of her stomach. For as long as I’ve known her, she struggled with obesity. She was 77 pounds overweight, an excess baggage she’d been stuck with close to a decade. Equally as long as I’ve been her friend, she’s had an unhealthy relationship with food and a distorted view of herself. She avoids vegetables, hates to hydrate, and has a sweet tooth. In a bid to be sensitive, I try not to use the term body dysmorphia around her. Though I am no expert in the matter, from what I’ve read and understood about eating disorders, that’s been the poltergeist haunting her since she was a child. She didn’t like a lot of what she saw in the mirror and battled with guilt each time she ate. Or rather, overate. <a href="https://medium.com/ellemeno/dont-judge-me-by-the-size-of-my-jeans-807912ecdb76">Read More</a>