A new story...
I grew up in an abusive household and I've done a lot of work with a therapist to get through anger issues but I haven't resolved my weight problems.
I've gone through periods of losing. I have a cycle. I lose weight, I feel better, I meet someone, I get "comfortable", I gain weight, I get upset, I feel worse, I gain weight, the relationship gets rocky, I gain weight, I feel worse, I go through a break up. Repeat.
I'm successful in my career but I have no doubt that I have faced "fat" prejudice in job interviews or with colleagues. I have no doubt that it has held me back in living my life; I have spent so much time getting out of potentially embarrassing situations its what I've lived my life knowing and excelling at: avoiding living.
But when you are the weight I am you worry, you stress, you know that you might not fit in the chair, you worry that you'll bring the wrong seat belt extension; you know it will wind you to have to walk up the hill for the sightseeing, you avoid beach vacations, you would love to sky dive or ride horseback or even run, but you can't; you try to get to meetings early because you worry about having to squeeze into a row for a seat; you don't like being out of breath just from going up two floors with your colleagues when you walk back from lunch; you live in a state where people ski most of the year and you have no ski weekend stories because the thought of even walking in snow is exhausting.
It is so tiring, so exhausting not living.
And so when it is quiet and lonely but safe you are happy but not quite, so you grab that box of swiss rolls and the sugar and the pleasant set of movies make you forget about all the painful moments of being so aware of being the biggest one in the room but being invisible. But the temporary reprieve keeps us caught up where we are.
I don't think I've wrapped my mind around what my life looks like "thin" it's more of: what is my life like? I have no idea. I have been on the sidelines. Yes, I got places, I do things, but everything is always buried in these extra 130 pounds and it is tiring. I've lived in three different countries, I've traveled around the world, I go out and yet I do so always aware of my size.
So, it's time to start thinking differently. Or rather, to stop thinking "fat" and start thinking "worthy" or maybe just to not have to plan everything, control the environment, avoid embarrassment. It's not a secret but we never talk about it. It's the most obvious thing but it creates so many walls that make us invisible.
I'm choosing to live. I think I am afraid of what that will bring. No more sidelines. And there will still be difficult days and tough times and lonely Sunday evenings. And then what do I do? Without the food to soothe and the weight to blame, what does my narrative become?
It's time to start a new story of my life...
