This is something I have been thinking about for some time, and while it may not seem to fit with some of the other topics on this blog, I feel like it is an important part of “learning contentment” and living my “best life” whatever that might mean.
I wrote this last summer after seeing a picture of myself that jolted me into reality and was so much more upsetting than I expected. I began to think about why I was so distraught. I needed to try to stop the cycle of beating myself up and learn to be content in my own body and headspace.
For everyone who has felt defined by their pound of flesh
Am I really a different person when I have an extra pound or 2 (or 25)? Perhaps I am. I sit differently at the coffee shop with friends, trying not to hunch and make my stomach look fatter or hold out my shirt so it doesn’t cling too much. Instead of being present in the moment, I am thinking how huge my arm feels as it presses against my side or why I didn’t choose my larger purse to more fully cover my stomach.
So why is it that I torture myself with this cycle of eating everything in the galaxy and being a couch slug only to join the latest weight loss app and faithfully go to the gym? Why I can’t I just “get it together” and stick to something? It would be much easier if I blamed “society” or the unholy things done in Photoshop to celebrity photos, but the truth is, for me, those are just cop outs. I ask myself “why?” Why do I feel less like me when there is more of me?
Why do I feel less like me when there is more of me?
I am by nature a very private person—there is nothing as embarrassing to a private person as having your emotional and personal struggles displayed for all to see and judge in your waistline. My own weight yo-yo’s are a catalogue of some of the more difficult times in my life.
During those times that I have been emotionally unstable, the only way most people would be able to tell (besides my mom of course) is by my extra pounds of flesh. I wonder if that is why I am so often in denial about my weight and so ashamed of it. It’s like my body is crying because it is the only way I will pay attention.
There’s nothing so motivating and equally heartbreaking as seeing a picture of myself. In that moment, I am no longer able to live in denial. “Oh my goodness! I have gotten so fat! When did this happen?!” I cringe at the picture and berate myself. I tell myself that tomorrow I will start all over—eating better and going back to the gym.
But the other thing I see in that picture if I look a little closer is the sadness—the loneliness, worry, or hurt on this woman’s face that is me but not me.
She’s this other version –sad and maybe a little bigger, but she’s also the one struggling, fighting, trying to get through whatever it is. And in that moment, I’m proud of her too. She’s the me that gets the short end of the stick. I judge her based on what I see that I don’t like—usually her stomach looks poochy and flabby and she has at least 2 chins. But she is strong and she makes it through.
Looking back in my fitness app, I realized I have lost and gained the same 15 pounds at least 3 times in the last few years. And I can almost always pinpoint what was happening in my life when I had that extra pound or two of flesh. But I can also remember the times when I got up off the floor and did my best to get back at it both at the gym and in life. For every “failure” there have been successes too. Sometimes the failures feel like they are stacking up, but the important thing is not to give up.
I won’t give up on that me that looks up at me from the picture—she looks up at me and says, “Don’t give up! We’ve come this far, and you are going to be okay. You are more than okay—you are beautiful just the way you are.”
You are more than okay—you are beautiful just the way you are.
I hope you might get a little encouragement from my self reflection. It’s not my intention to judge anyone in any way on their bodies or their journeys. My goal in this is just to share the outpouring of my heart when I was feeling down and my path to a new perspective.
