I just thought of that title so, either this list will be a piece of cake and I’ll need to make a part 2 and 3, or I will need to make some stuff up.
- My upper arms.
- My bent towards inconsistency.
- How my self-worth is so closely knit with 10 lbs of fat and whether I eat “clean”or not…or not.
- My eternal optimism for everyone else, but inability to offer it to myself.
- How I can treat the people I love the very most with complacency when I feel fat and failure-ish because I eat a carb instead of not.
- My unrelenting desire to make peace between others but my inability to make peace with myself.
- The fact that I could even write a list like this.
- That I am an isolationist when I don’t have my shit in order.
- How I will believe the best about you to a fault, even if you actually suck as a person.
- #3 and #6
A couple of weeks ago I sat on the floor in my closet and cried. I hadn’t tripped trying to change my clothes, hitting my head on the dresser or wall or anything. It wasn’t due to a physical injury. I was crying because I’m messed up. I was crying out to God. “How can my worth be so intrinsically connected to the fat on my body?!?! I don’t want to be this shallow! I know You designed me to matter so WHY can’t I break free from this endless battle that rages in my head and heart? Why can’t I just eat clean and be done with this friggin’ ‘journey’?????”
On Mother’s Day my daughter gave me a poem she had been working on for a couple of months. Here it is, written exactly as she did:
I’ve never let Emily know how much I’m not a fan of myself. I’m a good liar…except I’m actually known for totally sucking at lying. I can’t do it. I have never said, “I’m fat or ugly or I don’t like myself” in front of her. But she’s not stupid, in fact, she’s quite brilliant. And like I said, I suck at lying, so I know I’m not pulling the wool over her eyes.
This is NOT the legacy I want to leave…
So, on Tuesday I’m headed to see a counselor who specializes in Eating Disorders.
Because the things she loves about me are there deep down inside and they matter and they are the things I know make up my true beauty. And I actually do believe these things about myself, the “beauty” my daughter sees, but what I believe in my head just hasn’t quite made it to my heart and I think I need someone to help me get there…