It’s not a big deal that you gained weight. Honestly, in the big picture, who cares? Did you live life the way you wanted to? Did you have fun? Did you find people you love? Did you learn lots of interesting things? That’s probably what you’re gonna care about when you’re at your death bed, not about the fact that you “gained weight” when you were 21.
My 18 year old brother, when i was freaking out about my recovery weight gain. (via thephilyptian)
You don’t owe people the person you used to be. You don’t have to talk to people who are speaking to the old you. If they want to drag old you out, and you’ve already left that person behind, they don’t get to talk to you. When you’ve gone from weakness to strength, you don’t owe a show of your former self to someone who just can’t wrap their head around your change.
Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.
Everyone’s fucked up. You’ve just gotta decide what kinda fucked up you’re into.
Learn from everyone. Follow no one. Watch for patterns. Work like hell.
Who the hell said you no longer had it in you?
Episode 13: Unafraid of the Dark, Cosmos: A SpaceTime Odyssey
That is fucking frightening.
Beyoncé’s full performance at the 2014 VMA’s