Something in me gave way a bit when I wrote my last piece about the struggle to stay on track. Those last few paragraphs were an exercise in freedom. I wasn’t expecting it, but admitting that the food battle is so emotional cracked open a reservoir of untapped strength in me.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t previously examined this head/heart connection with food, but it seems that finding my voice to share that struggle here was a powerful step forward. Seeing the words flow out onto the page made the obvious undeniable. It crystalized the issue and now I know with absolute clarity what I am facing.
I feel electrified by sharing the parts of me that I have been so deeply ashamed of my entire life. I have felt so trapped and so undeserving of love and affection because of my weight. It was only when I was thin that I finally would let myself feel worthy enough to feel desirable, or taken seriously, or liked. There are so many things I have demurred on because I didn’t think fat girls like me deserved things like that.
If this sounds like a terrible way to live, it is. But I know I am far from alone. I know I am not the only one with an eye trained to avoid mirrors. I know I am not the only one who has believed she would be denied credibility because of her dress size. I am not the only one to see myself in a photo and wonder internally how anyone could find me attractive, let alone why anyone would invest in me.
I know I am not alone.
The solidarity in that silent shame is what brings me here. I don’t expect to become an internet sensation with my writing, or to author a book that Oprah loves (although I would be flat out lying if I said I didn’t dream of that all the time). I’ve realized that I need to write this for me and for you if you also happen to find yourself in the same beat down boat.
Instead of that, I want to figure this part of me out. I want to deconstruct it, repair the hurt, and become something whole. I want to feel okay on the inside and I want to take care of myself the way I deserve to be taken care of.
These are my dreams for this part of the journey. It is nothing big or fancy. It is just raw, basic love. It is love for myself. It is love for you. It is love that fills in the gaps that hurt. It is love that raises our expectations for what we should receive in life- and those expectations need not have anything to do with the number on the scale.
Give ‘Em Hell.