There was a point in my life where i absolutely hated everything about me.My hair, face, voice, stomach, thighs.There were days when i used to cry myself to sleep. It was three in the morning and i covered my mouth with my hands and cried quietly because i didn't want to wake anyone up. Then i thought "Hating myself is going to get me where? " since that night i wanted to end the pain, i gradually got better. No, it didn't happen in a click or the next morning turned out to be just great, it happened over a long time. The thing is when my close friends ask me when i tell them this story is that who made me realise life was worth living?Who inspired me to get better? Who pulled me out of it?Did you do it for your mom or your family? I never told anyone back then when all this was happening. No one knew. I didn't tell anyone because i felt it would be hard for people to accept this fun loving, free spirited and girl laughing hardest at her jokes to go through such a time in her life. I felt as i was always pretending. Because the moment i would come home i felt exhausted and cranky. So i always told them no one inspired me to get better. I did.Looking back i know i should have talked about this to someone. But i am lucky i got out by myself.
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