fat scars

I find myself standing in front of the mirror a lot lately, just starring at my body. No, I haven't become a narcissist, I'm just looking for the changes. A majority of the time I'm doing this, its usually in the morning after a shower. While I am noticing my belly slowly shrinking, and the creases in my stomach becoming less, I can't help but wonder if I will ever be okay with my body.

I know that sounds weird...let me explain. If you look at my stomach, I have stretch marks all around my belly button, kind of like a woman who has given birth. To me they are ugly, a reminder that I let myself get so out of control and so fat that my skin couldn't contain all the fat. They start close to my belly button, and kind of fan out a little way. I remember the first time one popped up, it was just a little one, no bigger than the length of my pinky fingernail, right next to my belly button. It was probably a year and a half ago, or maybe a little more than that. I was lingerie shopping with Jes, and saw it in the dressing room. I was devastated, seeing it there, because I knew they were permanent. From there, I don't remember seeing anymore until a couple of days before our Hawaii trip, I looked and they were all over my stomach. I felt helpless, and knew that no matter how much weight I had lost, I could never wear a bikini and fell good naked, because even if I was skinny, I would still have these...scars.

That's kind of what I think of when I see them. They're like scars, to remind me of who I once was, but they don't necessarily have to hold me back. I can still be skinny, and still feel great about my body. I know they'll fade...I have others on my sides from middle school that are hardly noticeable anymore. I just worry too much I guess.