The number. Why oh why does it always matter? I ask myself this every day that I climb on the scale. And while one answer is purely because for medical reasons I have to watch the number, the other answer is one that I don't like.
Because, when I let it, watching that number becomes an important part of my life. I'm not good at controlling that number, or making it go down. I'm not good at letting that number go, or not comparing it to my husband's number.. because girls are supposed to be smaller right? and lighter? and feel tiny next to their partner, isn't that what you read and see?
I don't like the other answer because it means that I've gone a bit backwards.. from feeling pretty good about myself no matter what, to wondering what people are thinking of me and my size when I meet them uptown. What a waste of energy. It's embarrassing that that's what I spend my precious time thinking about.
Ooo she's really let herself go... does she realize how big she's gotten.. yikes she's gotten fat.. she would look a lot better if she just lost some weight... she shouldn't be wearing that, doesn't she know how gross it looks with her belly looking like that?
These are the things I hear in my head and imagine that people are thinking about me while I'm just walking past people in the store, meeting an old acquaintance at the pool, or even in the safe space of my own home.
I don't like the answer because it means that I've gone from seeing food, exercise and the number as all pieces of an important story on my journey to a healthy mom/wife/person to the reason I either feel accomplished and happy or upset and like a failure. From seeing the number as something that just isn't that important other than for medical reasons (see this blog post for an explanation on that: Not a Summary: Part 1), but rather to something I place my self-worth in. It's just not okay.
SO .. after a solid two weeks of silent self pity and loathing that I can't seem to put the flippin chips down, or stop at one helping of a full plate (which of course puts me on the path of eating more to feel better while I'm angry for doing exactly that .. ugh. ridiculous) I am writing this blog. Not only to share what my real thoughts are and to let others who struggle with food addiction and body image know that they are not alone, but also to kick that self pity to the curb. ENOUGH. I don't like that look on me. It's not beautiful. (not that the goal is just to be beautiful physically, but I hope you're getting what I'm saying here people lol)
What IS beautiful is the fact that I'm deciding to sit down tonight and decide what is beautiful about me. I'm not going to imagine what others think is beautiful about me.
What is beautiful is that I'm going to wake up tomorrow and I'm going to check the number, because it's creeping into the extremely unhealthy territory, and I'm going to make a goal. A healthy, attainable, realistic goal.. and I'm going to get to that goal in a positive way.
What is beautiful is that after I see the number, I'm going to change my first reaction of despair and disgust. I'm going to tell myself that it doesn't matter. That I am strong and that the number itself is not what defines me.
What is beautiful is that despite the fact that I can eat as healthy as I want, and exercise as often as I want and still gain weight (thank you Hypothyroidism for not being gone like I thought you were) is that there is medication for that part of this. And even though I've managed to gain 17 pounds in less than a month due to it, it is reversible and it is not life threatening. Untreated it could threaten my brain pressure and vision yet again.. but I'm educated now, I"m aware now, I've seen the doctor and it won't get to that point. Knowing that I"ll be okay, that I will still have great vision, that I can be helped.. that is what is beautiful, even if I'm not at the end of that yet.
What is beautiful is that despite the fact that I am struggling to believe my own words about body positivity and being confident no matter how I feel about myself currently, is the fact that I know I can get there. I am going to repeat the words to myself over and over again. and I know that I WILL believe them. I have before, I get glimpses now what I put my mind to it, and it will soon be second nature, because deep down that is my base.
What is beautiful is that despite the struggle, I still bought my first bikini (also first high-waisted article of clothing) and put that darn thing on and went to the pool. And although I had to remind myself time and time again that it didn't matter if anyone was thinking anything negative about me, I still did it. I put it aside and spent my energy playing with my daughter and making memories with her that didn't involve her seeing me tuck in and suck in and walk awkwardly just to look a tiny bit smoother or smaller, but rather memories that involve a lot of giggling, jumping and sliding.
What is beautiful is that I wore that shirt with the sheer back, despite the fact that I knew my back 'flaps' could be seen and that people may assume that having those makes a person ugly or less worthy. I wore it because I just wanted to wear it! I like the shirt. Why can't I wear the shirt? I can. I can wear the fashion that I want to. FINALLY. And knowing that I did it, that I didn't put it back and say oh I'll just wait till I'm twenty pounds lighter or I wish I was small enough to wear the clothes I like, felt beautifully empowering.
What is beautiful is that I am consciously making an effort, despite the thoughts and the feelings, to put my mind and my kids memories first. And I should be proud of that. The feelings of beauty will come (and already do sometimes) when I just focus on this beautiful life and treating myself like I want to live in it for a very long and healthy time. For me and for my family.
What is beautiful is that hopefully I can train up my children to have a healthy attitude towards their bodies, as well as others. To treat both theirs and others' bodies with respect.
What is beautiful is that despite the fact that I don't always treat mine kindly, it continues to strive to be it's best for me. It continues to sustain not only me, but two babies as well. It lets me move around, carry and chase children, have dance parties with the toddler and feed the baby twins. It continues to let me love my husband and work hard during the day, no matter how little sleep it got. The survival and smarts and strength that come from this body continue to astound me, and that is just so. very. beautiful.
What is beautiful is that I have a husband who loves and has loved me and told me how beautiful I am at every different size I've been at. He's also told me that it doesn't matter what size I am, or what the number is, as long as I'm trying to do the best by my health, that is what is attractive.
Love doesn't see a number. Love sees the person.
So, love your person. Do what it takes to healthily love yourself. You are your very own self. It's really so amazing!
You are beautiful. I am beautiful.
And it has nothing to do with the number.
<3
Ps. Thank you for listening to my nighttime ramblings. Despite the fact that I'll most likely be up in an hour to feed a baby or two, I am so very glad that I did this. I am already feeling renewed in my spirit and my mind for the 786,523rd re-start on my journey to a healthy body and mind. lol
Ps#2. I did not write this to elicit sympathy or compliments or judgment (obviously ha). Please don't feel that you have to give any of those things. (altho, like, I totally do accept compliments ;P) Please just have read this with an open heart, as I know you will, and send up some prayers or send me some positive vibes for continued strength and motivation as I wait for both my thyroid meds to kick in and as I actively work on conquering my food addiction.
