A Letter To My 16-Year-Old Bulimic Self

I've been meaning to write a letter to my younger self for the longest time. I never really got to prioritizing it until weeks ago, when my great friend and writer-idol, Isa Garcia, asked me to write a letter to my younger self about body love in her book launch. Her first book ever, entitled Found, is a collection of letters about love, life, and God, and she specifically hand-picked people close to her to read out letters about various things in front of her family, friends, and guests. I'm glad she asked me, because (1) it's truly my honor to speak for Isa (did I mention she's my writer-idol???), and (2) I finally had a reason to push myself to write this overdue letter. (Check out my blog post about the event here.)

While I read this letter out loud for the very first time, I couldn't help but choke up and cry in front of the crowd. I've truly come a long, long way from where I was, and I know full well I wouldn't be where I am today it without God and His love and grace.



Dearest 16-year-old Stacy,

All the time you spent watching shows and reading magazines did not do you any good.

Your consumption of these media inevitably made you believe their lies about women. That a woman’s skin is always as smooth and flawless as a mannequin’s—with no bumps or lumps and scars or marks. That a woman’s default is sensual, always ready to be sexed up by a man who desires her. That those worthy to be called beautiful are only the ones who look Caucasian—with their fair skin, perky noses, and big doll-like eyes.

These one-sided glorifications of women, who, mind you, only make up 1% of the entire world’s population, made you believe that everybody including yourself must devote her whole life in striving to look just like them. Or else you will never be beautiful. Or capable. Or valuable.

Stacy, listen to me. Those women are not real. They are by-products of good lighting, thick makeup, carefully angled-poses, and this dark digital magic we call Photoshop.

Look, don’t think for a second that I don’t understand you. I do. You were just caught up in the world like everyone else, looking to celebrity culture as your ultimate guide to happiness. Like most unknowing teenagers, you let the fucked up media with a sinister hidden agenda capitalize on your insecurities and dictate how you should be as a woman.

And because of our culture and society exalting skeletal images of women, you thought you’d only be substantial once you reduce your chunky body into one that’s svelte, resembling the photos you’re bombarded with daily. You tried your hardest and did all of it—crash diets, intense workouts, slimming pills—tirelessly hoping one of these will solve your body problem. But none of it really did.


The idea of developing an eating disorder appealed to you after coming across a pro-anorexia and bulimia site, skin and bones glorified in every way. I remember you telling yourself, if this is the only way, so be it.

You knelt down before the porcelain god and stared at the toilet water countless of times as your after-meal ritual since then. You hurled and purged every heavy meal you binged for seven months straight, making bulimia your last hope to get skinny.

Skinny. The adjective you desperately wanted to be, even at the expense of your health, your wellness, your sanity.

Skinny. The adjective you thought will make you happy and successful, because that’s the message everyone around you, including your family and friends, was sending loud and clear.

Skinny. The adjective you wanted to embody so badly so cool people will be drawn to you and boys will desire you.

But you see, Stacy, hinging your entire worth on this mere word is a waste of who you are and what you can offer the world.

You obsess over your weight now, but not much later, everything will change. You will realize that it’s nothing but a number that does not and will not and can never define you.

You think the only way you’ll get your big break as a model is when your hip bones are sticking out and your collarbones are protruding. But God will surprise you, Stacy. Once you surrender the fight you’ve been waging against your body, you’ll see how God will turn your insecurities into something so beautiful.

That plump body you desperately forced to be thin will be your ultimate identifier, in an empowering way than an insulting way. That body that you thought is the main hindrance of having a modeling career will be the very instrument that will get your photos inside the pages of mainstream magazines and get you interviewed in various TV shows. And you know what else? That body you loathe so much will get you your very first billboard. And not just any billboard, girl. It’s going to be along EDSA, I’m telling ya! I know it’s puzzling, but that's just how God works. He will turn all your insecurities into a source of victory so glorious that you will get to change the way men and women see bodies.

The shallow mindset of you only gaining success and happiness by losing weight will eventually be replaced with wisdom. You will soon be allergic to the superficial. Your soul will only spark and feel magic over things that are genuine and deep. You will have no time for things that do not have any soul in them.

As for the boys you desperately wanted to want you back—you will have zero fucks to give about them and what they prefer. You are going to be so unapologetically yourself, and it will stem from a place of self-love, not conceit. You will know full well of your value that is given to you by your Maker. You will be authentic, and it’s going to liberate you from the fear of what anybody else thinks of you. You will live out your worth Stacy, and you are going to be a Queen, and everyone that matters to you will see you for the precious diamond that you are.

That body you used to torture with diets, pills, and eating disorders, you will come to love so fiercely and whole-heartedly. You will know the ugly truth about diets and the food industry, and this will fuel you to treat your body with respect by eating right. You will enjoy cooking healthy meals for yourself and your twin sister. You will also rediscover your love for boxing, and it will be one of the activities you look forward to the most. You will be in love with moving, productivity, and being capable in your curvy, strong, and healthy body.

That body you used to hate so much, you will come to embrace and accept fully. Every stretchmark, every scar, every imperfection will leave you unbothered. In fact, as surprising as this sounds, you’re going to be so proud of all that make up who you are, there will be no more shame in showing everyone your flaws. You will become so secure in yourself because you know what’s real, and you’re no longer scared to show them that YOU ARE REAL.

Dearest Stacy, I know this sounds absurd where you are now, but you are going to let God redefine beauty for you. It will no longer be about your size or your shape or your hair or your skin. It’s going to be about your heart, your mind, and your soul. More than being a mere Instagram celebrity whose following rises because of a beautifully curated feed—people will be drawn to you for your pretty thoughts and captivating words. You will realize that you have a voice, and you will use this to impact the lives of women to start their own body acceptance journey. You will realize that your beauty and your charm are given to you by God as a mere bait to talk about the things that matter in life, and not the only things to marvel at you for. More than your initial dream of being a model, you will be more than a subject of a photo to be looked at. You will be an advocate, and you will encourage everyone around you to love themselves, because self-love is the ultimate and first romance.

Stacy, you may not believe this now, but you are one special woman. You may desperately hold on to being a hot mess as your identity, but you know what? God’s got you. He will untangle you from this chaos sooner than you think, and you’re just going to be blown away by the new life He has planned for you. Now relax, and quit getting anxious. You have no idea how bright your future is going to be.


Love,
26-year-old you