Ever since I was little, I have had an issue with my weight. Yes. Since I was little. It has ALWAYS been a struggle for me. And though I detest that part of me, it still is. I am totally unsure of the fact that there will be a day when I feel happy and satisfied with my weight.
I was chubby as a little girl. I had to shop in the husky section at Sears. I had these jeans with a tie up roller skate on the back pocket And cords, with a mountain scene across my butt. Now, tell me. When you have to shop in the Husky section, is your best choice pants with a mountain scene across your tush? I think perhaps not.
There have been years that I have felt good. I have been fit. I have actually fit into jeans that didn't have an H on the back. Or a mountain scene. But those years are few and far between.
I have tried to figure out what my hang up is still about weight. Growing up, we (my sisters and I) were often chastised about our weight. Offered money to lose weight. Treats were hidden. Perhaps it was done in love, and in hopes that we would learn to eat properly. Or perhaps it was done to have us fit into a certain image that was desired. I think the latter may be the case.
Today, I am struggling. Again. With my weight. I think I go through cycles. And it is one of those low cycle days. Weeks. Months. Year. Sheesh.
I am so blessed to have a sweet husband who thinks I am insane- and thinks I am beautiful and wonderful and sexy the way that I am. ANY way that I am. He always tells me so. I love him for it. But it is from my heart that things need to change.
I need to change the dialog inside my head. I need to be able to quiet that voice that tells me that I am fat. That I am never going to lose weight, or look good. But that is easier said then done.
My worth is not found in my looks. My weight doesn't define who I am.
Then why do I put so much emphasis on it?