For the longest time ive always had this idea that "if i juust lost a little bit of weight & got the flat stomach ive always wanted." Then, a huuge weight would be lifted (pun intended) & I Maleika would be completely 100% happy. As if my tops 1kg of extra weight was literally holding me back from my true great self. And also as if, that every person i considered to have my goal body must emulate this radiance of ease & lightness in their lives, that because there body was in shape, so to was everything else.
Now, i know you're not meant to admit this stuff out loud. But it occured to me, on progression of body goals that this absolut insane concept of mine dwells within a very physical domain. The same domain we could perhaps place money & relationships, where ones well being constantly bounces from wall to wall. And our happiness hangs in limbo, somewhere between body image, boyfriend & bank account.
So what happens when you finally achieve your goal? when you find marry your soulmate, when your bank account is overflowing, when you feel so goddamn sexy it hurts. is it only then that you give yourself the nod of approval "okay, go. be happy now". are we really that transparent? or are we just happy finding shinier accessories in our own murder.
i am urgently sickened at the thought. as i watch so many friends around me find daily issue in one physical issue or another, i almost wonder if their ignorance is bliss & infact they are more blissful being ignorant. where people would actually prefer to have physical issues, because waking up & smelling the roses everyday is ironically; just. too. hard.