My body weight has altered drastically several times in my lifetime.
In my younger days I was extremely physically fit and well toned – I was a sprinter and held the county record for the 100 metres – and since then I have verged from normal weight for my height to very obese, several times.
I decided to at last acknowledge why I ballooned and shrunk with regularity. I decided, yesterday, to tell myself the truth and stop hiding behind the ‘I don’t know’ response or the ‘It’s something medical’ answer that seemed to satisfy most queries.
I know, as I have always known, I guess, that the reason why I changed weight so dramatically was because I needed to be in control of something.
This something was my body.
This something was the amount of food I ate.
This something was how I looked.
This something reflected how I felt on the inside.
I wanted to be unattractive to people because I was unattractive to myself.
I didn’t want to be noticed because of looking good and accomplishing things.
I wanted to disappear.
I wanted my pain to disappear with me.
I could eat in secret.
I was the only one who knew about the extra packets of biscuits and bars of chocolate.
I was the only one who knew about the clandestine visits to the fast food places.
I was the only one who knew how much I disliked myself.
I was trying to destroy myself – because I needed to… or so I thought at the time.
Then … way back then. I didn’t know how to love myself.
Way back then, I didn’t think it was ok to love myself.
Way back then, I was afraid of being myself.
Way back then, I did bad things to myself – through food.
Way back then, I detested all that I was. I lived my life in a daze of food fixes and increasing sadness.
Sometimes I lost weight but then I would slip into the trap of self-loathing and consume too much knowing that I was doing nothing to shift the excess. I was not surprised when my clothes became too tight.
I ignored it and pretended that I didn’t notice.
It was another excuse to slip into depression and withdraw from people.
I was taking back control that I had lost. I was choosing, even though the choices were hurting me most of all.
Before, when I had no love or compassion for myself I allowed myself to do bad things to myself
I didn’t look at myself in the mirror – not really look, for years.
Now when I look in the mirror I see the light and love – for myself – in my own eyes.
Now I try to maintain a healthy weight because it matters, because I matter to myself, because I love myself.
Now I love all that I am, and all that I am becoming.
Now I am free to be me.
Now, right now, I am important to myself … and it feels good.
What weighty issues I have been carrying for too many years.
I have purged myself at last.