BRAND NEW: What went wrong?

     Welcome to the three post series on ConfidencetoCommitment called “BRAND NEW”, this is technically the first post within the series, although there was an introductory post with a brief summary of what to expect within this series! Over the next 2-3 weeks, my blog will be filled with nothing but this series, but I already have some exciting plans for the blog within the next couple of months! This post, the first within “BRAND NEW”, is dedicated to what got me spiraling out of control again after a long period of recovery. So buckle up, and get ready for a whole lot of mess in a blog post.

 

I officially claimed to be in recovery on December 1st, 2012, from my eating disorder, and shortly after claimed my recovery from self-harm towards the start of 2013. After a struggling relationship and a struggling mind, I needed something to change in my life, so I decided that I must be the thing to change. I gave up my old tendencies and fought with all my might to find some true light and happiness. It was a shaky start, but with some support as momentum, my happiness could be seen within the distance. I found myself a fantastic support system that became some of the greatest friends I have ever known. The more time that I dedicated to recovery and the more friends I found by my side, the easier I found my recovery.   I slipped up a few times in regards to self-harm, but never let go of my recovery with my eating disorder. After these slip ups, a sense of strength came over me and I powered through my junior year of high school. My junior year presented some real battles within my life. I experienced the most excruciating heartbreak I can imagine, I came out of the closet, and I found old relationships with friends crumbling. However, I fought through and was so proud of myself and of my triumphs at the end of the year.

The summer after my junior year, I created this blog, ConfidencetoCommitment, which instantly sparked a following and a good number of views every time I posted. When asked, people explained that it was my brutal honesty and vulnerability on my blog that made it so appealing to them. People began to tweet me, to message me on Facebook, text me, and email me about how my blog and story inspired them to stay alive. I found myself in a place of euphoria, something that had been lacking in my life for so many years. Unfortunately, this feeling did not last, and came with am immense amount of pressure. I didn’t want to let my readers down and deliver a post that didn’t satisfy them. As my senior year began and was in its midst, I came across a series of people who doubted my morality, my kindness to others, and my ability to love others. This took a tremendous toll on my happiness and the security that I felt within my life. So Worth Loving (www.soworthloving.com) and To Write Love On Her Arms (www.twloha.com) are a portion of my life that I represent daily, through fashion, social media, and through what I thought was my actions. After some high school drama, I was doubted on many things, including the way that I was treating people because of problems that I had with them.

 One of my greatest flaws is how show my insecurities, which is through defensiveness. After not being cast as roles that I wanted within musicals, not receiving solos in choir, struggling with God, and struggling with how much of a joke I appeared within the LGBTQ+ community in my hometown, I fell back into a state of defensiveness to hide my insecurities. Regardless of how people were treating me, the way I reacted was so inappropriate and is now understandable how it was perceived as hatred or as someone who didn’t really embrace the So Worth Loving and To Write Love on Her Arm’s lifestyle. Instead of outwardly discussing my feelings like I had been doing on my blog for the past months, I found myself blogging less, telling my friends less about my pain, and putting forth anger instead of love to hide my true inner emotions. I felt as if members of my choir and of my theatre troupe hated me with so much passion that I had nowhere else to turn. I wanted so hard to spread love to them, and to make them feel so worthy of love and happiness, but my insecurities made me come across as a dark, sinister, and hateful person, which is something that my heart does not wish to represent. I was consumed with rage over the most miniscule events, because every single negative aspect within my life now seemed to be magnified by a thousand. My head was a raging sea of misery, insecurities, and jealousy, and forced my views of others to be misconstrued

After a few months of this, I began cutting again. I began lying on my blog (when I even posted) about how I was really doing, and I began making more and more enemies within he things that I loved most in my life. People saw me as a judgmental person, not as someone who wanted all to feel worthy. I was tearing myself up inside, I didn’t know how to tell them my true intentions because I had dug myself into such a deep hole. I began to doubt myself again. I doubted the way that I looked, the way my body looked, I doubted my talents, I doubted my relationship with God, and I doubted if I was even a decent human anymore. I convinced myself that it was okay to start cutting again. Each time it happened, I cut deeper, and I cut more and more and more. There was a time in the winter of 2014-2015 that I cut so much that my right and left arms, right and left legs, and hips, were covered with hundreds and hundreds of marks. I didn’t know where else to turn anymore. I hadn’t been to therapy in over a year, and I couldn’t bear to tell my friends that I was so depressed and anxious again.

 

As the year progressed, I fell into a pit of immaturity. I cared more about maintaining this “hard-ass” or “I don’t have feelings or emotions” side of myself, than focusing on how much pain I was putting myself through by not showing the love that I knew was in my heart. Scars that had long faded found themselves onto my arms yet again, and it felt as if I the years of work I had done was all for nothing. I graduated from high school having more enemies than friends in the things that I loved most (Choir and Theatre), which made me that much more ready to leave my town and move away to college. However, in regards to my mental stability, I was the farthest thing from ready to move away to a completely new location and be basically on my own. I wanted to run away from my problems, leave those who I had skirmished with behind, instead of pushing through what would only be waiting for me each and every time I would return from school.

 

I remember looking down at my stomach in the shower one day and not liking what I saw, something that hadn’t crossed my mind in quite a while, and had been of recently. I then looked to both of my arms and legs and saw marks that I had put there, and thought to myself “Well, if I can do one thing (cutting), I can do the other (purge)”. That night, I made myself purge my meal for the first time in nearly 3 years. I had fallen into such a depression again. I knew that people hated me yet again, and I knew that it was all in my control, and everything that had begun again within the past year was something that I could have changed, if I had only wanted to put forth the effort.  I’ve been told in the past that I am a very persuasive person, and that proved to be true by the way I convinced myself it was okay to leave the remains of my meal in a porcelain bowl that night.

 

When I first decided to give up purging my meals, it was just something that clicked in me. I told myself that I did not want to live a life like that anymore. Two and a half years later, the same thing commenced. I did not want to hurt any longer, and I did not want others to be hurt because of the things I had done within the past year. As simple as it sounds, the only thing that truly got me out of my relapse was me. I had to rearrange my thoughts, tell myself I was worthy of life and happiness, and find the things within my life to be thankful for. Just as I was persuasive enough to allow myself to purge and cut, I was also able to persuade myself to suit up and quit living in a pool of self-pity.

 

     I relapsed, but it didn’t end my recovery. It was merely a road bump, and allowed me to refocus my thoughts, energy, and time, to becoming a safer and happier me. 

 

 

     I hope you will join me over the next two blog posts within the “BRAND NEW SERIES” here on www.confidencetocommitment.wordpress.com, as I discuss my new recovery tactics and where I stand today with my recovery.

Thank you, for your support and dedication to this blog, it means more than you could imagine.

J.B.S.

12/16/15

Share your story with me, I truly want to hear!

Jshepherd637@gmail.com

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Inspirations

Caution: This post may be triggering for those who have struggled with self-harm or eating disorders in the past or still struggle today. Proceed with care.

A murky mixture of salty tears and maroon blood splash against the tile floor of my bathroom; A boy lets out muffled screams and lets a shaky hand containing a blade smack against the ground, defeated. Thrashing, gasping, and vomiting; December 1^st, 2012, a day like many others, frequently revisits my mind and clouds my thoughts. The bathroom floor became a second bed, hand-crafted specifically for my dry heaving and “Why Me?” attitude. But something was different about this night. Something happened within my mind that had never been touched upon before. A sense of courage, a sense of determination, and the first step towards a long recovery that is still a battle.

It was hard for me as a child to pinpoint who I admired because of how quickly everything changes, particularly in your youth. In the fall of 2012, in the midst of my journey to skin and bones and uncontrollable self-harm, I never thought of what effect it had on myself and my health, and I certainly never though of someone of something that would inspire me to thrive in other aspects of my life besides weight loss. However, I constantly tweeted about how much Demi Lovato was an inspiration to me, hoping that someone would get a clue about what was going on with me. Today, Demi still stands out to me as a phenomenal musician and spokesperson against bullying, self-harm, and eating disorders. However, in a time of gloom and hopelessness, would Demi be there for me when I needed a soothing tone to mellow my raging soul? Relationships and friendships failed as I reached the heart of my depression and eventually, I sat on the bathroom floor with no one to complain to. No one to text in the middle of the night, my typical message of,

“Tonight’s the night, I’m going to do it. I’m going to cut so deep that no one will ever have to worry about me again.”

That was when everything changed for me. When my messages were just being read, but no one was replying. I had driven everyone that I cared about away, until I was all alone in this world.

Towards the start of my blog, I made it seem more like I just stopped starving and cutting myself and that everything was fine and dandy and recovery was easy for me. It was true, I was clean from self-harm for nearly a year, until I found myself on that same bathroom floor yet again. Self-harm is so unnerving because you don’t even recall picking up the blade, you don’t recall slicing your wrist, or your leg, or your stomach, all you remember is the shame you feel when you’re wiping blood off the floor and yourself. In just a few seconds, I had ruined 1 year…12 months…52 weeks…365 days… of resisting the urge. It wasn’t until my first relapse from self- harm that I started finding my inspirations. How ironic that it was those who tore me down and who sat next to me in class that I found the most unimaginable inspiration and courage to fight on. How dare I, have the audacity to reply to a text stating, “I want to cut. I want to purge. I don’t know what else to do.”, with “Stay Strong.” How could I recommend and preach a lifestyle of cleanliness and hope when all I did was sit in my own pool of blood, vomit, and hypocrisy every single day.

My struggles with self-harm had become no secret for those who knew me, those who saw my arms, those who sat next to me in class. It wasn’t until those same people started wearing the pain from their lives on their wrists that I began to truly recognize the power of effect. I thought to myself one night as I laid wide-awake staring on my ceiling, if I showed these people that I could stay clean and represent someone who had looked self-harm in the eyes saying “Fuck you, I’m coming out on top.” Strangely enough, this centered my thoughts more and allowed my recovery to have more of a purpose than just fighting for my happiness. I was now a warrior to defend others and the happiness that they deserved to withhold.

That’s where ConfidencetoCommitment was born, on a quest to push others along the path to find their own joy and safety by understanding the horror that I put myself through. This blog serves not only as a way to inspire others, but as an outlet for myself. I find that the more I blog, the more honest I am, and if I don’t explain a “G-Rated” version of my story, that I am more motivated to not judge myself in the mirror and to not leave fresh wounds upon my skin. I slacked during the school year on updating the world via ConfidencentCcommitment, and it clearly showed on my arms. I can proudly say that my readers, followers, and dear-friends are the reasons I stay strong and are true inspirations. This post goes out to all of y’all. Lots of love.

-J.B.S 07/17/15

The Best That We Can Be

Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, strive, reach, and attempt, our best isn’t wanted. We pour our hearts into something that doesn’t want a glass full. We climb those ladders that lead to a nothingness reward. Each and every day we put our best face forward to achieve our so desired goals.  There’s something missing though – recognition.  We long for lovers who don’t exist. We long to be in the spotlight, we long to be 15 lbs lighter, we long to have lighter hair, and we long to be someone else. No matter the longing, no matter the thirst, some things simply never change. So what’s missing? Is it our fault? Are we truly doing all we can? Or is the universe just not ready to put out for us? We lie in bed at night and wonder what we have done wrong. We begin to tear ourselves apart, limb by limb, pound by pound, inch my inch, tear by tear. We lay in white sheets that are smeared with our disgust towards ourselves. Purity destroyed by our dissatisfaction

On the 5^th day of May in the year of 2015, I, Joshua Shepherd, type this post to you to declare that IT IS NOT OUR FAULTS. We work, and we work, and we work even harder to make our lives be filled with bliss, but it seems like there is always something in our way. IT IS OUR OF OUR REACH. If you have truly done all you can do and dedicated your heart in soul into something but the outcome isn’t to your pleasing, don’t fret. Our best is our best. If we give everything that we have and it doesn’t work out, we aren’t worthless. We aren’t done. We aren’t pieces of shit who can’t accomplish anything – we are human.  God put us on this planet to be the best that we can be.  Our happiness shouldn’t be reached on something or someone’s inability to see our greatness and to notice how valuable we truly are.

I’ve longed all year to have my love be returned by one who could never love me because of “how I am”.  We went nearly the entire school year without speaking but I remembered our brief friendship together. I remember the way I smiled at him; I remember the way I felt as if I mattered. I remembered the way we laughed to same and how my heart throbbed when I was around him. I sat pondering every night for nearly 9 months what I had done wrong.  It wasn’t until tonight when I realized his rejection and embarrassment towards me WAS NOT MY FAULT. I HAVE DONE AND DID ALL I COULD DO TO MAKE HIM ACCEPT ME THAT WAY THAT I WAS. MY BEST ISN’T FOR HIM. And although my best just didn’t satisfy him, it sure as hell satisfies me.  He will not longer rule my mind and eat away at my heart. All I’ve ever wanted to do was love someone. My best is all that I can do. My passion towards him will no longer consume my lifestyle because I know that I have done all that I can do. I am enough for ME. Just as YOU are enough for YOU.

For those who have been around my blog for a while (which is nearly a year!), although I have been a terrible blogger within recent months, know of my struggles with self-harm and eating disorders within my high school career. I’ve recently confessed to relapsing with self-harm. I’ve struggled these past several months with my relapse because of how ashamed I was of myself that it had happened. I couldn’t forgive myself for throwing away an entire year of hard work to a blade. To a blade that did nothing but cause me to feel remorse and an entire new set of rejections.  Today has been somewhat of an epiphany because of my realization. I’ve worked my ass off to recover from a variety of depressive issues. I’m human. I mess up. I falter. I stumble. But I stand back up again and start over. Recovery isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to be worth it. I’m doing the best I can, and that’s truly enough to settle my mind. This being said, I am not saying go home tonight and slit your wrists, but If you do happen to have a moment of darkness, don’t beat yourself up. Stand up, Speak Up, and Start over.

Doing the best you can do is all that you can ask yourself in a moment of doubt. Whether it is with a love interest, a dream, or a recovery, all we have to do is use our determination to reach our final destination. You are all worth so much to the world; don’t let it get you down.

-J.B.S

May 5^th, 2015.

Send me an email- Jshepherd637@gmail.com … I would love to hear from each and every one of my readers. You’re all worthy of love and redemption from your past.

IT IS SO WORTH IT

I started this blog in June 2014, throwing huge parts of my struggles onto the internet for anyone to see. Over my past 5 or so blog posts, I’ve been using information that I gather throughout my day an incorporating those into a blog post. Today, I figured I would take a turn and go back towards making my blog posts most personal. Because after all, I am still a huge work in progress.
I constantly ask myself this dark question: “Is my life even worth it anymore?” I lay in bed at night, drowning in my own anxiety, my own depression, my own pain. I have the best support system anyone could ask for, and I know that I can turn to that system whenever I need help. However, if you’re reading this and you suffer with any mental disorder, you understand the fear, the near impossibility, of reaching out and saying that you’re struggling. I look back a years time, reading old tweets, old journal entries, old texts, and realize how truly negative I was in every single aspect of my life. Every conversation was “I’m too fat” “I’m too ugly” and it ruined some of the best things that ever happened to me within my life. I ruined a relationship that had made me happier than I ever been (Or so I thought. How could I have been happy while I was so self-conscious?) and I lost a huge chunk of my life by focusing on everything that was going wrong in my life. Now, although I don’t center my life about my weight or how I look (because honestly who the hell gives a shit anymore. I’m a senior in high school, it’s lucky if I can make it out the door in the morning, much less look cute or worry about what I’m eating.) I am constantly concerned with the progress on the road to happiness I have made (or haven’t made). I miss everything about my junior year of high school. Relationships, trips for choir, our spring musical. Although I have ALL of those things ahead of my for my senior year, everything seems to be different. I’ve made different mistakes, a lot of my friends graduated, and I have to focus on my future. I don’t feel like my life is happy. When I get up in the morning, I am upset. I don’t want to wake up most mornings and I certainly do not want to face the world. That’s anxiety. It’s something I suffer with, and it’s something I am always going to suffer with until I find away to just not give a damn. But that’s the thing about anxiety, you can’t just throw away things that are on your mind, because they consume you. Every negative though I have, consumes my entire body, my movement, my facial expressions, my singing, my everything. I used to be so good at hiding what I was feeling, but now, it reads all over my face, and I have no way of hiding what I am going through (Thus me posting about it).
I guess the point of my going through that entire rant for you is to explain the importance of perserverance, the importance to get yourself out of bed in the morning and face the world, because without doing that, how will you ever have a chance of happiness? Without facing your problems, without me facing my anxiety, how will I ever get better? If I don’t try, how will I have a great senior year?
Those nights that we lay in bed and wish that we wouldn’t wake up in the morning, have got to be only temporary. This won’t be forever. But for now, it is something that we are going to have to live with. We’re going to have depressing thoughts, and those thoughts are going to consume our minds for a while, but we have to push through.
Why, you ask?
1. Life is beautiful
2. Sunshine is so much more wonderful that the ceiling of your bedroom.
3. You and I are So Worth Loving

Friends, anxiety is a bitch.
Anxiety is that bitch in high school telling you that you aren’t worthy.
Telling you that you don’t fit in.
Telling you that you can’t do it anymore.
But guess what?
Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks.
Think about it.
Anxiety is nothing but a bunch of sick tricks and lies.
Our anxiety will not defeat us.
Our anxiety is what is of no value.
We, on the other hand, have SO much value

So tonight, when you’re laying in bed and thinking: Is my life really worth it?
Remind yourself of this blog post. Remind yourself how much you have to look forward to in your life. Remind yourself that you are so loved.
WE can do this.
And WE can do this together.

Reach out to me:

Send me an email, I would love to hear your story.
Friends are wonderful, especially when you have common struggles.
JShepherd637@gmail.com

Body Shaming//Men Have Insecurities About Their Bodies Too

In recent months, there has been an outbreak over what is more attractive: Skinny or Curvy. In Meghan Trainor’s song, “All about that bass” lines such as “go and tell those skinny bitches that” or “boys like a little more booty to hold at night” spread across social media, defending two sides.
Side 1 is 100% for this song promoting the beauty in curves and have something to grab at night, for lack of a better phrase.
Side 2 is 100% against this song as it promotes “skinny girl body shaming”.

I am extremely torn on this topic of conversation because of the pros and cons of both sides.
I always try (sometimes I fail) to promote the beauty in all body types: skinny, fat, curvy, awkward, long legs, long torso, short legs, short torso, etc.
I promote loving your body no matter WHAT size or shape you are.
But I don’t promote hating someone because of their body.
Fat shaming has been an issue for years, especially around the middle school and high school ages.
However, recently, “skinny shaming” has become a topic of conversation.
What bothers me is the argument that is surrounding these, which is causing the issue, not the actual comments. The past several months have been filed with social media arguments fighting over who truly has it worse, fat or skinny girls (also for lack of a better phrase).
I have two points to make about this:
1. In high school, you don’t see girls with nice bodies being picked on, maybe the occasional girl who is viewed to have an awkward body. It is usually the girls that have a little extra that get the grief.
2. Regardless of body size and who has it worse: Shaming someone else for the body that they have is nothing to be proud of and should not be something to argue over based on who has it worse. We are all guilty of judging someone of how they look or how much they weigh, and it is something that needs to change within our society. EVERYONE HAS INSECURITIES AND COULD BE INSECURE ABOUT THEIR BODIES SO SHAMING GIRLS FOR THEIR BODIES AND THEN ARGUING ABOUT WHO HAS IT WORSE IS NO BUENO.
Skinny, fat, curvy, or bony, you have a beautiful body, love it because it is YOURS.
This song, empowered women around the world to see the beauty in their curvy bodies and to not strive for something like a skinny body if that isn’t what they want.
It allows women, and even some men, to understand that someone will fall in love with you no matter what your body type or how much you weight.

—–
This brings me to my next topic of conversation: men and their body image.
I plan to go into greater detail into this is one of my next posts, but I thought now would be an appropriate time to introduce it.
The stereotype surrounding men is that we must always act tough and be strong physically and not talk about feelings/how we feel, even about our bodies.
The stereotype surrounding gay men is that we must always be cute and fit.
Us gays are always talking about our feelings.

The tie between the two of them is that we are both human.
Just like the women, we were born with a heart, a soul, and were given a body, whether we appreciate that body or not is completely up to us.

I remember being a big athlete and swimming every single day, working my six-pack.
I also remember during this time how much I hated myself, even though physically, my body was nice to look at.
This can go for football players, basketball players, lacrosse players, male cheerleaders, theatre kids, ANYONE.

Boys, what I am trying to tell you is that it’s okay to be insecure. It’s okay to look in the mirror after football practice, after school, before school, after rehearsal, etc. and not like what you see.
You want to know why? You’re human.
YOU DON’T HAVE TO HAVE LADY PARTS TO FEEL. TO HURT. TO TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS. TO CRY. TO ASK FOR HELP. TO BE INSECURE.

Reach out to someone, talk about your feelings, and accept that you don’t have to be strong all the time.
You can do this boys!
You can do this girls!
We can do this together!

Sharing, Conversation, Love, and a Smile

I am just going to apologize for the length between my posts now a-days, unfortunately senior year is a bit harder and more time consumer than I expected it to be (AP Lit, Chamber Choir, Musical Theatre, Working) But I felt as if this topic deserved a bit more conversation and explanation.

Suicide prevention day is September the 10th. I fully support TWLOHA and SWL and these companies are dedicated to preserving the lives and happiness of others. Recently at my school, a girl committed suicide. Any time I hear of these stories, my heart breaks. It breaks because I know others who are currently starting at death in the mirror wishing it to come to them in the night, and how I was once one of those people. What aches me, is within the same day, Joan Rivers passed away, a woman who I think is absolutely fabulous. I found others and even myself and my friend talking more of Joan Rivers of times than the girl who just took her own life because she felt that she had no one left for her, nothing left in this beautiful and crazy world for her. I felt awful, and immediately was so grateful for the friends I have struggling that are still alive. I wept for her family internally, and couldn’t even bare putting my friends or family through what they are right now.
The story supposedly was that this girl had some relationship struggles and took her life that night. It seems to me that there was a bit more background information, and I’m sure there was. This girl probably had some locked up hurt that was trapped inside of her poor soul. I never knew this girl, and I wish that I could have reached out to her as a friend, maybe just one more friend, one more conversation, one more smile could have saved her life. This is where the importance of sharing and conversation come into play.
My darkest times were when I was strictly keeping all of my pain and sorrows to myself, praying for death, but an easy death, one in which I wouldn’t have to do anything to end it. I was a coward, a scared of death, scared of life. I was trapped within my own mind and my own disease. Eventually, I found some friends and some lovers who I entrusted my struggles with. Nearly instantly, I felt a wave of relief come over me and a gigantic weight come off of my withering chest. My life was saved because I opened up and was able to share my problems and others offered me solutions and love. All I needed was communication, relating to someone, some love, a lot of sharing sharing, and a flash of a toothy smile. I needed someone to care and to talk to me. Some days all the kept me sane was a quick smile from someone and a quick hello.
The importance of conversation is never ending, sharing could save your life or someone else, a smile could keep someone from taking their own life that very night, and caring could change the world.
Let’s do it together, loves.

Actually, this is my last post about Junior Year. Whoops!

Everyone knows the feeling of coming back to school after a two week break. The feelings of “I hate school why do I have to go” and “I’m pissed because I can’t sleep until noon anymore”. Trust me, I understand all of these feelings completely, and more. After Christmas Break 2013-2014, I was dreading going back to school. My confidence had already been wavering before Christmas break, and after I made some poor choices and gave away something that I can’t get back, I was close to crumbling. Through the help of my friends and So Worth Loving, I was slowly able to rebuild the confidence that I had lost.
Now, when I state that my confidence was back, I mean that I felt that I was worthy of love. What I love about So Worth Loving is that they provide so many examples of backgrounds you can come from, and no matter where you come from, you are still worthy of all the love imaginable. Although I still didn’t think that I was attractive, was stressing about my weight because I wasn’t 120lbs anymore, and was lonely without a silly boy to tell me I was good looking, I knew that one day I would find love, that I had friends and family now that thought I was amazing just as I was.
My grades had finally picked up, All A’s and a B in AP Psychology. I was working hard for my school’s Spring Musical, All Shook Up, for for LGPE for my Chamber Choir. I realized that I could be dedicated to other things besides relationships. I felt comfortable in my own skin finally, and was passionate, more than I ever had been about musical theater and chorus. I became so close to a group of girls from my chamber choir, and even made more friends that I had never expected would like me.
As prom and the opening of All Shook Up rolled around, I found myself developing feelings for the guy for my school again. We had mended out ways and I had forgiven him and he had forgiven me. We had a mutual disgust towards the guy who had posted my story online (now we are friends again and I have forgiven him for everything that had happened between us). After several weeks of flirting and questioning whether he liked me or not, we kissed on my dock when he came over to tan after school one day. I felt good. I went to prom with Annalise and we went with our musical theater group. Prom was such an amazing night. We all spent the night at a girl in our troupe’s house.
Everything was good, and everything was right, until I started having trust issues again.
The “relationship” ended just a few days after my birthday. I was confused and I was hurt a little bit, but I knew that I was going to be okay.
As crazy as this sounds, after I had been heartbroken and sad once again, It made me realize that I was okay. I knew at this point how strong I was.
Yeah, I might be loud, obnoxious, annoying, and extremely flamboyant, but I’ve accomplished so much over the past year and a half and I am so proud of myself.
Now I know, although dating is a wonderful thing, I don’t need it to feel beautiful and loved.
No one can love me more than I can.
So Worth Loving, To Write Love on Her Arms, and More Love Letters are all companies dedicated to making you feel the best you can within your situation and life.
Today I stand here, nearly 20 months clean from anorexia and bulimia, and 10 months clean from self harm. I am clean, I am happy, I am gay, and I am free.
Free to be.
Love you love people. Stay Strong all you beautiful people, I will always be here blogging away the constant thoughts throughout my mind. Stay tuned!
-J.B.S.