This is going to be very hard to talk about. First off, this isn’t a “fat acceptance/love” post – ’cause I don’t accept or love my fat. But I can’t carry the shame any more, and it’s *not helping*. It’s not advancing the plot.
Being fat is like wearing a stained t-shirt everywhere you go, and not ever being allowed to take it off. I live in Southern California, people. The land of body worship? The place where they offer Mommy Makeovers in the free circulars (that’s a tummy tuck and breast lift/augmentation) as a package deal. To be overweight – especially as a woman – is to be marked as poor, lazy, ill or all of the above.
It hurts. It hurts to look in the mirror and see both what you look like… and what you ought to look like. The distortion of what God made and what you’ve made of it. It hurts to see the evidence of a bad year… that you’re still wearing, a decade later. Believe me when I tell you it hurts when you want to make pretty things and they don’t look like they should, because *you* don’t look like you should.
Trying and failing to lose weight hurts too. Aren’t you trying hard enough? If you tried hard enough, you could do it, you know. You’re just lazy. Unmotivated.
For three years, I didn’t eat a bite of bread. No wheat. No waffles, no french toast, no birthday cake. I went cold turkey… and didn’t go back. I never thought I would, until my husband told me that we were. Lost five pounds the first month, then nothing.
For three months… I ate under 100 carbs/day – and that much only because I wasn’t giving up my one bit of sweet. Lost a couple of pounds.
For three months… I did the 600 cal 2x/wk thing. Lost eight pounds, which came back *with friends* as soon as I stopped the diet because I couldn’t handle the level of food-obsession that I was developing. (Also I wasn’t very nice on those 600 calorie days).
I do Ttapp regularly – which has made me much stronger. I walk, which has made me stronger, and means my foot hurts less. I corset, again, making me stronger and giving me better posture.
Am I not trying hard enough?
It’s not like I don’t think I need to lose weight – medically or aesthetically. Like I don’t wake up and go to sleep thinking about it.
It’s not that I can’t bear to say, “I need to improve” or “I need to become more healthy”. No, what I need to leave behind, right here, right now, is my shame. I need to leave behind the way I drop my eyes in the store, because I’m ashamed of myself. I need to give up the shame when I’m at the beach with my kids, wearing my bathing suit. I need to stop feeling furtive when I’m hungry in public, when I have to eat in front of strangers.
It’s not the weight that I carry around my waist that’s breaking me – it’s the weight that I’m carrying in my heart.
I hope and pray that tomorrow will see a healthier me, a thinner me, but it just doesn’t advance the plot to hate myself so very much today.
I’m sharing this because it’s unfinished business – and I’m sharing this because I have a feeling what I’ve said today will hit home in more than one heart. Let’s accept what we are today, and that we’re on our way to being something better tomorrow, with God’s grace.
*FWIW, when the nice lady at church says you need to pray and ask God to reveal to you whatever unfinished business you have on your plate so you can get things clean before a new undertaking… be warned. He’s gonna answer. This is NOT FUN FOR ME. But get it done, you know? -rips bandaid off-