I am not a number, nor am I to be defined by one. My value shouldn’t come from the numbers that appear on a scale or a clothing tag. My size or weight do not define my value or worth and so my failures and successes should no longer be defined by these numbers either.
Do I still want to lose this weight? Of course. Will I be pleased every time more of it leaves my body? Absolutely. But I am trying to make this about more than just a number. By definition, the very principle of joining these dietbets is about gaining a healthier self by being motivated through, and rewarded for, getting to a specific number. So this may be in minor conflict with my attempted new attitude towards weight and weight loss but I love the community too much to walk away from it. So I’ll keep coming back until and unless it no longer aligns with my goals or ideals.
Every group, plan, or program I’ve ever joined was in an attempt to lose weight. It was because I was sick of being in my body. The reason I was desperate enough to walk into a room full of strangers, or shell out money I didn’t really have to join something, was always because of my disappointment or disgust with my physical body. And although I’ve been in therapy many times throughout my life, I’ve never really directly addressed the relationship between my emotions and my weight. I’m beginning to truly realize there is so much more to this than just the food for me. My weight isn’t the problem. My true problem is in my head, the rest is just a side effect. The physical accumulation of resentments, anger, stress, pain, fear, and attempts at self-preservation. Who knew that my subconscious impulse to comfort myself would actually be the very thing to destroy me?
This poor body is a symptom of having a horrible relationship with myself. A relationship that no matter how many times you say you’re gonna leave, you just stay because it’s what you’ve known for so long, you don’t know what else is out there and you simply don’t want to be alone. Well it’s time to rebuild that relationship. To truly forgive myself for the fact that I did this. To take ownership, to release the guilt and move forward, building a new relationship, a new respect for self, both inside and out. To be able to see myself, not as a number or a size, not as a success or a failure, but as the flawed and yet fabulous creature I am and to know that I’m going to be okay. Because I am worth the effort and dedication to build a healthy, happy home, both mentally and physically. A place where I can live comfortably. The number on the mailbox shouldn’t matter as long as it’s safe to go inside.