The girl with the flashing shoes

It was that moment where the night has all come together, the expectation and the excitement and the unravelling of it all, when everything is just as it should be. You know you’re looking good tonight, you’re euphoric from dancing, the atmosphere is electric, your friend has drank enough that she’s joined you on the dancefloor and your sexy new love interest is on the decks and has dropped 3 of your favourite tunes in a row…

And you’re wearing flashing LED hi-top trainers.


And you realise. That’s YOU.

That’s You that a few months ago, 4 stone heavier, hated how she looked and hid away indoors. That’s You that got stuck in the house for weeks at a time, who couldn’t even look after herself, and couldn’t clean the house, and cried every day and isolated herself from the world, even from those who loved her most. That’s You that gave up on yourself and felt suicidal every day for years, that got too anxious to go out for a meal with friends because you thought so little of yourself you were sure you’d be judged for getting fat, You that got paranoid every time you opened your mouth to speak. That’s You that cancelled plans, avoided friends, ignored acquaintances, and stopped getting invited to things because you became so unreliable. You who broke down in the doctors waiting room, and in the job centre, who stopped being able to use public transport because of her anxiety, and stayed on high alert with ‘stranger-danger’ every time you walked down the street.

That’s You who scrubs up well, and smiles at strangers, and is the first and last on the dancefloor, who is not afraid to take her place in the world, and will persevere and conquer her fears and live the life she wants because she is a fighter and a survivor and knows that the best version of herself is just around the corner, You: the girl with the flashing shoes…

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