I have to say, after I hit publish on that last post, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Like all the buildup I was feeling about my weight, about abandoning the blog, about the fact that I thought people were judging me, all just gone. Poof!
It feels wonderful.
Anytime I get vulnerable in this space, good things happen. Love, gratitude, new understanding.
For me, I grew up never wanting to be associated with anything to do with diets and exercise. I wanted to get as far as I could from anything to do with health or weight loss. I thought being open about my feelings about my weight would be some kind of admission that I had done something wrong, fucked up somewhere in life. I had moments where the rhetoric surrounding the word fat get to me, but at my core, I never really believed the stigma enough to turn on myself, and my body.
Now, I’ve been using the word “fat” for so long that it is in no way negative. There are some days where I feel really uncomfortable with the weight I’ve gained, but I usually eventually come back to a place of love.
All this is just to say that I think the more you can work to embrace what hurts you, the sweeter life can be.
If you’re closed off from your pain, you lose the opportunity to grow from it and have it push you forward. I’m not always great at being comfortable with the uncomfortable, but I’m chipping away at my walls and feeling at home in my vulnerability more and more.
The last few months of being so sad, I’m still not totally sure what that was about. And I can’t be sure that I’ll never go through something like that again. But, more and more, I’m flooded with gratitude for everything I’ve been through.
I used to spend hours worrying about whether I would gain back the weight I lost. I would read article after article about how unlikely it is that I would keep the weight off, and dread the years of struggle I had ahead of me just to maintain.
But now, the thing I was scared of the most already happened to me. I gained weight. It sucked. A lot. But right now, in this moment, as I’m writing and getting a little deeper into it, it’s starting to feel more and more meaningless. The power the weight gain had over me is starting to fade. The love I have for myself is starting to return, and with that alive inside me, I’m not so concerned, or caught up, or obsessed with what my weight will be a year from now.
I used to think that when I binged, I was filling some craving or need I had, emotional or otherwise. But the thought that’s come to me since I’ve stopped bingeing, is that when I do binge, I’m completely abandoning my needs for something that, in the end, is not comforting in the least. I don’t have to read any articles about long term weight loss to know that as long as I choose every moment, and every day, not to abandon myself, and commit to face, embrace, and welcome in the uncomfortable, sad, and sometimes dark parts of myself, I’ll be okay.
For sure that’s the attitude that got me to where I am now, and for sure it’s the attitude that I’ll take with me to a great future.