Thank you, Portia

Ever since I was twelve years old, I have struggled with my weight.  Fought with it, questioned it, hated it, badmouthed it, wished it away, obsessed over it, analyzed it, and vilified it.  From the first moment I realized I was heavier than my friends, to not being able to shop at the "cool" shops (remember 5-7-9?), to the realization that I wouldn't be able to "pull off" my ideal wedding dress, I have lived my life with a constant voice in my head saying one thing:

"I am destined to live less because I weigh more."

When I was thirteen, I joined Weight Watchers.  It worked for a while, but eventually I got "off track" and gained it all back - and then some.  The next seventeen years of my life have consisted of a blur of diets and weight-loss strategies, with some life events (moving into my own place, deciding on a career, getting married) sprinkled in.  I've done The Zone.  The Sonoma Diet.  Going vegan.  Giving up sugar.  Giving up wheat.  Always looking to fix myself.  Always looking for an answer.  Always at the forefront of my consciousness.  Even during my wedding, a part of me was worried about how my arms looked in my strapless gown.  It felt unnatural to be perceived as beautiful.

During the last few years, however, I have read several books and seen several shows that have made me rethink things.  First was Holy Hunger by Margaret Bullitt-Jonas.  Then came books by Geneen Roth.  Next thing you know, there is a weight-loss-themed show on virtually all the networks, plus several cable stations.  Stories about fear of failure.  Stories about overcoming obstacles.  Stories about learning to love yourself.  Stories very much like mine.

My latest read, Unbearable Lightness by Portia de Rossi, was the clincher.  I didn't go into it expecting to be inspired, or even to relate to it that much - her story was about anorexia and bulemia, and you will not find a photo of me in existence where I look like I might even remotely be anorexic.  But there I was, barely into the first chapter, when I started reading words that seemed like my own.  Experiences that were oddly similar to mine.  Thoughts that were carbon copies of my own neuro processes.  Thoughts about control; a desperate, blinding, frantic need for control.  Thoughts about fearing what others will think, what will happen if you fail, what if no one ever loves you.  Constant calculating of calories consumed, calories burned, and how your worthiness to be alive was based on whether those calculations came out to the right number.  An ever-present knowledge that you are not doing enough.  And then the breakthrough.  The weight of all of that invented responsibility and constant self-evaluation being lifted.  The freedom and blessing of listening to your body, and tuning out everything else that makes you feel like less than perfect.

The girl who's always been chubby was identifying with a woman who at the height of her obsession weighed 82 pounds.  That makes you stop and think.

Think that perhaps it's the thinking itself that's causing the problem.  The thinking day and night, the obsessing and checking and planning and punishing and judging and weighing and measuring and evaluating.  Maybe that's not the way to go.

I have been piecing together this idea for the last year or so; the idea that maybe there's nothing actually wrong with me.  That perhaps my life and my happiness isn't inherently woven into how much I weigh or how I look.  I've ever so slowly started learning how to love myself for who I am, regardless of a number on a scale or what a magazine photo tells me I should look like.  It's why I won't wear makeup, even though my mother and sister are both reps for a cosmetics company and think it's ridiculous that I don't want to make myself prettier.  It's why I've put my scale away in a place that would be quite time-consuming to reach.  It's why I've stopped counting calories and started listening to my body's cues.

I tell myself I can eat whatever I want.  Any food, any time.  Nothing is off-limits anymore.  There are no more rules.  I simply listen to my body and my spirit before, during, and after my meal, and I make mental notes.  The truly amazing thing: there isn't the least bit of judgmental overtone to the notes.  The other day, I went out for Mexican food, I stopped eating when I felt full, but about fifteen minutes later, I felt too full.  I said to myself, "Okay.  You ate too much.  Remember how this feels.  Next time, try to eat a little less and see how that feels."  On the second day of the school year, I brought both fresh vegetables and chocolate chip cookies with me in my lunch box.  I told myself, "You can have any of this, whenever you want."  When I got hungry, I wanted the veggies.  Already, I am starting to balance out, based purely on listening to what my body really wants.

So what happens when you've been restricting your foods for two-thirds of your life and all of a sudden you quit that thinking cold turkey?  I admit, I've gained a little weight, which was suspected by how I felt and confirmed with an accidental glance at the doctor's scale.  But for the first time in my life, a little weight gain hasn't been accompanied by a feeling of failure.  It's just a little weight gain - end of story.  The other night, I stepped into the shower, and I said to myself, "You know, I feel kinda fat."  What do you think popped into my head?  A plan to cut back on sugar?  An instant sense of self-loathing?  No.  A simple statement, clear as a bell:

"You will feel better if you go to the gym.  Your muscles want to move.  They want to stretch."

It's so hard to explain how my entire way of thinking has shifted.  And I've already taken up so much of your time with this (but a very sincere "Thank you" goes out to those of you who stuck through and read the whole thing).  To sum up, I feel lighter.  More confident.  And so sincerely happy.

My friends, I think I am finally paying attention to the only voice that should affect how I treat myself: my own.

Thank you to everyone who is on this journey with me.  Thank you for reading, thank you for your kind thoughts, words, and support.  Thank you for being you.

What inspired you to start treating yourself with the love you deserve?