I’ve never been overweight, like never. Yet I’ve always felt like I was …since a little girl. I always thought I was fat and if you looked at pictures of me as a child, I was this lanky long armed, long-legged girl, with a soft tummy, but not even close to even being chubby! Yet, when puberty hit I was so ashamed of my body. I thought I was big when I wasn’t. Puberty is awkward after all, butvwhy yhe hell did I think I was fat? Where did this idea come from and why did they bring it with me as an adult? I honestly have never wondered where it came from until now….my psychoanalytical self has finally come out to psychanalyze myself, ha.
Sure, I have had and still have some people in my life that don’t help with their comments when it comes to weight. But really, would it bother you if someone said you gained weight when you know you didn’t? For some people, probably not. For me–yeah, it’s one of my touchy subjects. It bothered me, to the point where I would cry…yes CRY…even up until a few weeks ago when my uncle told me I gained weight when I didnt, I got annoyed and cried. I’ve been dealing with my uncle saying nonsense stuff like that my whole life. And it upset me. Anyone saying anything about me being bigger would upset me. Why? Because I’ve always thought I was fat. Inferiority. As if my body didn’t amount to what everyone expected it to be. As if I wasn’t enough. And maybe these thoughts attracted things like people commenting on my weight. I don’t know. But what I do know is that thinking these thoughts have kept me in a place I don’t want to be, and that’s why I chose to change my thoughts about my self. It’s called self love…the me project. It’s a work in progress, but I’m getting there. It’s a process that I have tried keep reminding myself to do. But I’m doing it. Now, the last time I saw my uncle, he asked me if I gained weight because he saw my love handles, that I HAVE ALWAYS had. I not only said no, I didn’t because I hadn’t gained a pound anyway. But the important thing I said is this: what does it matter to him what I look like or how much I weigh anyway? Why is that so important? That it’s the least important thing about me. That I’m tired of people saying stupid stuff like that to me. And you know what? It felt good to let that out. And I think it made him think a little. Because he was totally kissing my ass afterwards, lol.
And so, I’ve made a decision …today, I am learning more about me and who I am. I’m accepting myself as I am. I am more than enough. I’m learning to accept everything about me, no matter what you say or think about me. To not care if you think I’ve gained a pound or two if I haven’t. Or even if I have. That is not of anyone’s concern but my own. Especially when I am at a healthy weight so it shouldn’t be a concern at all. I’m fine. I’m healthy. I’m not dying. I am living and living damn good. Real good.
So after thinking….I now know where this nonsense about me being fat came from…my mamma. And even my dad. They weren’t big people, but they both struggled with weight issues, and I saw that as a young child and thought it was normal to think like this. It was normal to want to lose weight, and then get on the scale and get depressed that you haven’t lost any weight, then go eat or drink junk food because your upset about it. That’s what I saw growing up. It wasn’t normal. It isn’t normal to obsess about your weight. That blocks you from actually living life to the fullest. I’m allowing more space in my life by learning to accept myself as I am. Fuck it. Self love is the besttttt loveee.
Who’s with me? Anyone relate?