The pit of my stomach has been set on fire. My inner monologue reminding me that I did this to myself. She, is disgusted by my actions. She, is disappointed that I have proven her right once again. Self sabotage is what I call it, fulfilling a prophecy that I have created and committed to truth.
I did it. I ate all of the food that I knew would not serve me. How silly of me to do something I knew would only make me feel worse. Yet, I still did it. I cannot seem to control the urges and as life becomes heavier the urges become more frequent. Ten pounds of added stress and bad decisions. Ten pounds of destruction is displayed on my body for all to see. Shame, guilt and sadness is the story it tells. My moods, a continuous cycle of fear, frustration and feelings of being lost. I have become overwhelmed with who I am, often day dreaming of a happier, healthier me. Someone who will dance in the rain and love until she can’t any more. Fearless, this girl I envision, able to overcome anything.
Good health is rooted in the choices we make every single day or at least that is what I have come to believe. I have recently found myself deep in thought about what that actually means. What are the choices we should be making and why do I feel as though all of the choices I have made are wrong? The truth, I don’t trust or love myself enough to be free. It always comes back to me. I have created a notion in my mind of what my body should be like, thin and perfect. Of course, when my reality doesn’t measure up to my ideals I feel confused. Upset with myself for not being her, my dream girl. My breast are not perky, my tummy is not tight and my skin is no longer young. My ability to concentrate has become non existent as exhaustion and burnout have taken over. I have learned to avoid the scale as a way to cope. If I cannot see it, it is not happening, right?
What I have lost sight of are all of the reasons why this narrative I have told myself is false. I truly want to love my body and there is absolutely not reason I shouldn’t. My body has been the creator of life. Three beautiful and healthy children have grown inside of this no longer perfect stomach of mine. They have been fed from the breast I look at with disgust. And my skin, proof of a life lived. So what I have come to realize is that I am not looking for perfection as I had envisioned it to be, but rather seeing perfection in all that I am. I am reminded that we, the beholders, are what make things beautiful. We give them that title. I have learned that I too can be beautiful just by seeing myself as such.
What I have been longing for is to be accepted as I am. I have failed to see that I am the one that needs to be accepting. In this moment, I feel gratitude and love for all my body has given me. Now, I seek solace in being able to trust myself. I will nourish my mind and my body with healthier thoughts and foods. I will find stability by being grounded in who I am for I am the creator.
