Carry that weight
Well, blog-land fans, today is the day. Scholar and I will be heading to the gym, so I can begin to shed the most tenacious personal demon I have ever encountered. I gave up smoking; that was No Big Deal. I don't drink (that much); I have stopped hemorrhaging money. I fill up the gas tank before the car stops completely. I'm actually doing my homework--and let me tell you, school is a lot more stressful when one goes to every class and completes every assignment.
So you see, this is the last devil. This is my Goliath: this weight that I carry. I have been heavy all my life, and I can't say that I hate myself for it. It was my way of dealing with the tremendous sorrow and anger I felt. Heavy feelings=heavy person, and that's just the way it worked for me.
It doesn't work anymore.
That's a beautiful thing, not a misfortune. This shell of flesh that used to protect me is now weighing me down. It has become a burden, where it used to be a comfort. I'm going to think of it like a cocoon, a safe home, a refuge. But butterflies don't live in cocoons; when the time is right, they fight their way free. That's me. It's time.
I have never known the joy of clothes. I don't think thin people can understand this, and my explanation will be inadequate. I've never put on an outfit and felt absolutely certain that I looked good, let alone GOOOOD (wink wink). I want that. I want sweaters in pastel colors; I want strapless dresses and short-sleeved tees. I want a little black dress that swirls when I turn around; I want high-heeled shoes that make my husband drool a little at the corner of his mouth. I want red -- God, do I want red: a crazy, burning red that I can wear without shame. My red will set the world on fire!
I want shopping to be a delight, rather than a reminder that I do not fit into the world. Now, I'm all for the idea that the world should fit me. I hear the women who sing "I'm big and I'm beautiful," and I shout with them Hallelujah and Amen! I could dig in my heels and refuse to budge; I could tell everyone that I must be accepted as I am.
But I don't accept me. Regardless of whether I've been conditioned to it, I don't accept this weight. I want it gone.
So it's going.
So you see, this is the last devil. This is my Goliath: this weight that I carry. I have been heavy all my life, and I can't say that I hate myself for it. It was my way of dealing with the tremendous sorrow and anger I felt. Heavy feelings=heavy person, and that's just the way it worked for me.
It doesn't work anymore.
That's a beautiful thing, not a misfortune. This shell of flesh that used to protect me is now weighing me down. It has become a burden, where it used to be a comfort. I'm going to think of it like a cocoon, a safe home, a refuge. But butterflies don't live in cocoons; when the time is right, they fight their way free. That's me. It's time.
I have never known the joy of clothes. I don't think thin people can understand this, and my explanation will be inadequate. I've never put on an outfit and felt absolutely certain that I looked good, let alone GOOOOD (wink wink). I want that. I want sweaters in pastel colors; I want strapless dresses and short-sleeved tees. I want a little black dress that swirls when I turn around; I want high-heeled shoes that make my husband drool a little at the corner of his mouth. I want red -- God, do I want red: a crazy, burning red that I can wear without shame. My red will set the world on fire!
I want shopping to be a delight, rather than a reminder that I do not fit into the world. Now, I'm all for the idea that the world should fit me. I hear the women who sing "I'm big and I'm beautiful," and I shout with them Hallelujah and Amen! I could dig in my heels and refuse to budge; I could tell everyone that I must be accepted as I am.
But I don't accept me. Regardless of whether I've been conditioned to it, I don't accept this weight. I want it gone.
So it's going.
posted by Tierant at Sunday, March 06, 2005
1 Comments:
I know you can do this. I know how strong willed you are (and how bull-headed), and you have the qualities needed to get the job done.
I tell you right now - yeah, it's a nice perk that I can get some clothes I love now - still waiting for the bikini and ultra sexy short skirt combo - but the thing I love the most, the thing I am most delighted with is the sign of psychological progress that dropping 65 pounds indicates! I am well healed of most of the trauma stored in my body. It's vibrant health proves that, and I am no longer a slave to hundreds of bad eating moments and escapes into sleep and movies and popcorn. I am living every moment of my life in my reborn body, and loving it! I too recently equated my growth to the butterfly process - it really is a transformation, and you are headed there, my friend, I see you breaking free, and I am so filled with indescribable joys!
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