Insecurities: what about ‘em?
Ok, let’s talk insecurities. Because you know that I know you have ‘em. We all have them. Whether it’s about our belly, our butt or our hair, there’s always this part of us we don’t necessarily like.
And God forbid we’d share it. Nor on Instagram, nor on Facebook. All we see up there are pretty pictures of a – what it seems – perfect life. But seriously, who’s life is perfect all the time? Well, let me tell you this: mine isn’t. Sometimes, ok at least once a day, I get insecure scrolling through Instagram pictures or staring at pretty faces on Facebook. She has better hair, she has better legs and oh my can I please touch that flawless skin of hers! Bottom line is that we don’t share our problem areas, we don’t upload pictures of our jiggling thighes or ugly #wokeuplikethisfaces. Sure I won’t.
The fact that I won’t post it on Instagram doesn’t mean I don’t have flaws. And it made me wonder. Why should I make you believe I live in a perfect (gym)world, where all the weights are shiny and the gaintrain never stops. I need things to be real and I need you to know that flaws and insecurities are okay.
So here I go, telling you about my insecurities. Please, don’t post ‘m on Instagram...
Let's talk insecurities
Got legs?
I can’t stand the fact that I still have baby legs. Tiny – almost cute – quads and ass. My shoulders and back are growing like crazy and my legs are falling behind. At least they did. After a massive knee injury like six months ago I couldn’t train my legs properly. But the last couple of weeks I actually saw visible quads shining through my jeans. I’ll have you know I did a little quadzilla dance. Yes, I did.
Got hair?
I absolutely hate my hair. Yes, on Instagram it looks okay, but you should see my hair right after I washed it and let it dry. Due to weird DNA-reasons I have this really curly, frizzy hair and only my hairdresser can fix it. I love her with all my heart. And hair.
Got eyebrows?
Do you ever stare for like fifteen minutes to a picture of a girl with THE perfect eyebrows? I do.
When I was younger I totally destroyed mine and they never grew back normal. What means I get up every day a little earlier to draw them on my face. I’m a make-up artist when it comes to eyebrows.
Got scared?
Last but not least: I’m terrified to actually go and stand on that stage by the end of this year at my first fitness competition. Between all these other gorgeous girls who also worked their (fine) asses off, wearing nothing more then a tiny bikini and high heels. Another 70 days to go and I’m getting more scared every single second.
The most valuable lesson I’ve learned so far from this rollercoaster journey is that I am stronger then I thought I was, literally but also mentally. I’ve learned to push through pain and fear and hey, I even got a bit more secure about myself. I know I will rock that stage. No doubt. I will stand there with all my insecurities and frizzy hair and look back at what I’ve reached and learned. There’s no holding back!
