Body image. It's something that many people struggle with, including myself. I could go on a whole tirade about how the media places unrealistic expectations on people, but I'll save that for another entry, maybe. But this blog is about my story, about where I came from and where I am now. So bear with me, these first few entries may be a little on the sadder side. But know that I'm doing this as a way to open up, to get all of these secrets off of my chest. To let people know the "real" me, as cliche as that is. Because I can count on one hand how many people know some of these things.
I've been heavy all of my life. At one point, I was almost 50 pounds heavier than I am now. I was the "fat kid" in class. I got your usual teasing in elementary school, but I don't remember it bothering me much. And in high school, the only thing I really remember was someone very close to me (at that time) using my weight as an insult during arguments. That person is no longer in my life and has since apologized, but the memories stay, you know? Anyway.
I remember weighing one day and seeing myself at my heaviest. I saw that high number and immediately felt shame. I had to lose the weight ASAP. So, I did what any person wanting to lose weight would do and began to work out and change my eating habits. I started going to a Zumba(R) class that my good friend Hannah taught. I did beginner workouts on YouTube. And so on. I discovered REFIT(R) when Hannah moved to Texas and I wanted a class to take the place of hers. And it was fine at first! I felt healthier, gradually stronger, and so on. The scale began to go down. I bought a FitBit and began to use MyFitnessPal to track my meals. Combine numbers with my tendency to take things to the extreme and you have a recipe for disaster.
Which was what it became. I became obsessed with step counts, calorie counts, and calories burned during my workouts. If my step number was low, I felt like a failure. When I logged my meals, I tried to get the "calories left" number to be as high as possible. And during my workouts, I legitimately got upset with my FitBit if my heart rate wasn't constantly in the peak zone. If my workout burned 300 calories, ha, it wasn't worth it! I read labels obsessively. A 500-calorie meal was way too much! (When in reality, it's actually a healthy number for an average meal.) And if the number on the scale went up as much as two-tenths of a pound, I still felt like I'd failed for the week. When I was really bad, I saw hunger as a good thing. It meant I was burning fat, burning what I needed to burn. Like I said. My mind was in a very dark place at this point in my life. My thoughts were very unhealthy.
And I still deal with them, though not as strongly. I hate when restaurants place calorie counts on their menus because it brings back those days of counting so intently. I still have things I feel guilty about after eating them. And yes, I still struggle with feeling like I have to do a long workout every day. Though not as badly.
And my body image? Oh boy. I had fallen into the trap that "skinny is beautiful". I still struggle with this today. I can't tell you how often I've body-checked in the reflective things at the sides of produce aisles at Walmart. Or in the doors of the frozen section. Or my own mirror. So on, and so on. I hated wearing sleeveless tops or swimsuits or anything tight. I compared myself to these fitness models on Instagram or these actresses in movies and TV. I had to be like them to be beautiful because fat girls were never portrayed as beautiful. I searched "Thinspo" more than I searched for whatever I was into at the time. (Not a search I recommend, by the way.)
Enough was enough. I got rid of MFP and my FitBit and began to repair my relationship with food. I let myself enjoy coffee with a friend or a holiday meal at work (I have some really good cooks for coworkers) without such an intense desire to burn it all off. I discovered the bodyposi movement on social media and began to see my body for what it is and can do. It can get me through hour-long classes or home workouts. It keeps me healthy. And so on. I began to wear things that flatter my shape instead of hiding it. And yes, I let myself wear sleeveless tops! I even worked out in a tanktop in public for the first time just a few weeks ago. I do have a FitBit again, but it's mainly used as my work watch.
And the scale? I learned a lot about it. I learned that a lot of things can make it go up, not necessarily weight gain. And even then, it's a number. Three digits. That number isn't anything related to my personality or who I am. So I'm happy when it goes down, and I'm more accepting when it stays the same or goes up. Progress!
I don't have to be as skinny as these fitness models. One, those images are edited and posed. Two, my genetics probably won't let me be that skinny. And that's okay. My exercise is stress relief. Fun. A chance to be social. Not punishment for what I ate. And if I don't exercise? That doesn't mean I don't eat a healthy amount or make up for it the next day (it used to). All it means is that I listened to my body and rested when it needed rest. That's all. And you know what? I've seen some "fat" girls that are GORGEOUS. If I can think they're beautiful, why can't I apply that to myself?
Am I where I want to be as far as this goes? Not quite yet. But I do see the progress I've made, and I'm extremely proud of it. I'll get to where I want to be.
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