Catch

Friday is fast becoming my favourite day of the week, because someone (namely Lisa-Jo over at thegypsymama.com) tells me what to write about. The subject today? Catch.
Go.
What is it about your mama's words that catch on your heart so? The barbed-wire-word that catches on your skin and scrapes a little bit more deeply than nearly anything else. It cuts so deeply when she mentions the 'bit of podge' that's crept around my middle over the summer, regardless of the fact that I'm still a UK size 8-10. How can she not know how much effect she has? How has she not noticed the years of skipped-meals and self-hatred? The (whisper it) almost-anorexia? Her perception of self and beauty is so ingrained into the way I think. Whilst at university I managed to talk about it to close friends who held me accountable meal by meal when things got rough. It's a battle, still a battle and a dark, dark place to which I do not want to return. What I want to catch is Daddy's vision of me. I want to love myself because He shaped me and formed me, and I am fearfully and wonderfully made. There are those incredible words again. In-credible. I cannot believe them. 
Stop.