My Why
In high school, I was a young Alicia, the girl who stood in front of the mirror and wished she could be anyone else. Body dysmorphia was my silent companion, a shadow that followed me everywhere. I was constantly comparing myself to the other girls—slender, confident, and seemingly perfect. The reflection I saw was a distorted image of who I was, leading to endless anxiety and stress. I couldn't understand why I looked the way I did, and I blamed myself for every perceived flaw.
Every morning was a battle. I would spend hours picking apart every detail of my appearance, convinced that everyone else saw the same grotesque image that I did. Social media didn't help. My feeds were filled with images of flawless bodies and lives, deepening my insecurity and self-loathing. I felt trapped in a cycle of self-criticism, and no amount of reassurance from friends and family could penetrate the thick walls of my self-doubt.
Graduating high school brought new challenges. College was a chance for a fresh start, but the insecurities came with me. I tried to hide my body under layers of clothing, avoiding activities where I felt exposed. The stress of academic life compounded my anxiety, and I often felt overwhelmed and lost.
But then something changed. It wasn't a sudden epiphany but a slow, gradual shift. I realized that if I didn't take control of my life, I would always be a prisoner to my insecurities. I decided to seek help and started seeing a therapist who specialized in body dysmorphia. It was in those sessions that I began to understand the roots of my anxieties and learned strategies to cope with them.
Therapy taught me to challenge the negative thoughts that had dominated my mind for so long. I started practicing self-compassion and forgiveness. I learned that it was okay to have imperfections, that everyone has them, and they don't define our worth. Slowly, I began to see myself through a kinder lens.
Taking accountability for my diet and exercise became a crucial part of my healing journey. I stopped punishing my body with extreme diets and grueling workout regimes and instead focused on nourishing it with healthy foods and enjoyable activities. I discovered a love for running, which not only improved my physical health but also my mental well-being. Each run was a step towards building a better relationship with my body.
As I worked on my physical health, I also started to explore my passions. I landed a job that I loved, one that challenged me and made me feel valued. This sense of accomplishment spilled over into other areas of my life, reinforcing my newfound confidence. I began to appreciate my body for what it could do rather than how it looked.
Jewelry had always been a passion of mine, a small but persistent spark of joy. As I grew more comfortable in my skin, I started creating my own body jewelry—body chains, thigh chains, pieces that celebrated my body rather than hiding it. Designing and wearing these pieces became a form of self-expression and celebration. Each chain I crafted was a testament to my journey, a symbol of the love and respect I had finally found for myself. I started making some for my friends that started asking me about my pieces, and it's kind of just blown up from there!
My body is still not perfect, but it is perfect for me. I've learned that perfection is an illusion, a constantly moving target that only brings dissatisfaction. What matters is how we feel about ourselves and the kindness we show our bodies. My jewelry became a way to adorn and honor myself, a daily reminder of the strength and resilience I had discovered.
Now, when I look in the mirror, I see a woman who has fought hard to love herself. The anxiety and stress haven't vanished entirely, but they no longer control me. I’ve embraced the struggle, understanding that there is no light without dark. My journey is ongoing, but I am proud of how far I have come. Creating body jewelry is not just a hobby; it is a celebration of my body and the love I have cultivated for it. This is my story, and I am grateful for every twist and turn that has brought me here.
I hope you love some of the pieces I've created and I hope I can inspire even just one of you to love yourself a little bit more!
Every morning was a battle. I would spend hours picking apart every detail of my appearance, convinced that everyone else saw the same grotesque image that I did. Social media didn't help. My feeds were filled with images of flawless bodies and lives, deepening my insecurity and self-loathing. I felt trapped in a cycle of self-criticism, and no amount of reassurance from friends and family could penetrate the thick walls of my self-doubt.
Graduating high school brought new challenges. College was a chance for a fresh start, but the insecurities came with me. I tried to hide my body under layers of clothing, avoiding activities where I felt exposed. The stress of academic life compounded my anxiety, and I often felt overwhelmed and lost.
But then something changed. It wasn't a sudden epiphany but a slow, gradual shift. I realized that if I didn't take control of my life, I would always be a prisoner to my insecurities. I decided to seek help and started seeing a therapist who specialized in body dysmorphia. It was in those sessions that I began to understand the roots of my anxieties and learned strategies to cope with them.
Therapy taught me to challenge the negative thoughts that had dominated my mind for so long. I started practicing self-compassion and forgiveness. I learned that it was okay to have imperfections, that everyone has them, and they don't define our worth. Slowly, I began to see myself through a kinder lens.
Taking accountability for my diet and exercise became a crucial part of my healing journey. I stopped punishing my body with extreme diets and grueling workout regimes and instead focused on nourishing it with healthy foods and enjoyable activities. I discovered a love for running, which not only improved my physical health but also my mental well-being. Each run was a step towards building a better relationship with my body.
As I worked on my physical health, I also started to explore my passions. I landed a job that I loved, one that challenged me and made me feel valued. This sense of accomplishment spilled over into other areas of my life, reinforcing my newfound confidence. I began to appreciate my body for what it could do rather than how it looked.
Jewelry had always been a passion of mine, a small but persistent spark of joy. As I grew more comfortable in my skin, I started creating my own body jewelry—body chains, thigh chains, pieces that celebrated my body rather than hiding it. Designing and wearing these pieces became a form of self-expression and celebration. Each chain I crafted was a testament to my journey, a symbol of the love and respect I had finally found for myself. I started making some for my friends that started asking me about my pieces, and it's kind of just blown up from there!
My body is still not perfect, but it is perfect for me. I've learned that perfection is an illusion, a constantly moving target that only brings dissatisfaction. What matters is how we feel about ourselves and the kindness we show our bodies. My jewelry became a way to adorn and honor myself, a daily reminder of the strength and resilience I had discovered.
Now, when I look in the mirror, I see a woman who has fought hard to love herself. The anxiety and stress haven't vanished entirely, but they no longer control me. I’ve embraced the struggle, understanding that there is no light without dark. My journey is ongoing, but I am proud of how far I have come. Creating body jewelry is not just a hobby; it is a celebration of my body and the love I have cultivated for it. This is my story, and I am grateful for every twist and turn that has brought me here.
I hope you love some of the pieces I've created and I hope I can inspire even just one of you to love yourself a little bit more!