It’s 7:30 a.m. I’m dressed in my new Fabletics outfit, sitting at my coffee table with my bottle of water and my cup of Greek yogurt with chia seeds on top. I’m a little sore, ‘cause I am a little sore every morning before I get moving and drink some water. Plus, I’m thinking about going for a walk after I eat it.
But that’s not all I’m thinking.
I have a cacophony of thoughts running through my head that are going so fast that I can’t even identify them all. Let alone counter act them. I imagine – no, I hope – some of them are positive, uplifting, Crystal-building thoughts. But every time I am able to concentrate long enough and follow the path of one of these things long enough to catch it by the tail momentarily and look it straight in the eye, it seems to be something ugly.
How much is enough?
25 pounds is not enough.
What if you just gain it all back?
You didn’t lose any weight last week.
What if you can’t lose the rest?
What if you see him on the street?
What will you say?
Will he even notice?
Does it matter if he does?
(He always thought I was beautiful before)
You aren’t beautiful enough yet.
What if the food wins?
What are you going to do to keep this up?
Can you keep this up for the rest of your life?
What’s the plan?
No beef? No dairy? No gluten? No soy?
No bread, no sugar, no noodles?
Mmmm, I want noodles.
I have good thoughts that I have been intentionally cultivating. But they don’t seem to be bouncing around my head all by themselves unbidden like those horrible monsters above. And I’ve been emotional about it. And I think fear is the big emotion. And I don’t like it. I want be brave and ready and able to jump into the fray – whatever the current battle may be. Especially if it is a battle for a better version of myself and my life.
But this is getting really hard – every time I need to eat these thoughts are the ones bouncing around, and the only thought I need at that time is: What can I eat to take care of myself? I need to be ready and eager to let go of the weight. Not because I might see Rick, or because I want to attract love into my life. But because I don’t want to hide behind it anymore. I don’t want its excuses any more. I want the big version of my life that I can only have if I am healthy enough to chase it down and jump on top of it.
I want to love myself and my body. And I do…but I want more. I want to go swimming and hiking and rowing and dancing. I want to be able to sweat in public and not instantly be reminded of how heavy I am and feel fat and ugly.
And I want to trust the Universe enough to feel safe letting it go. We have enough of anything we might want, and we will have enough in the future. There is enough food, and enough time. I don’t have to clean my plate. I can eat it later. I don’t have to save it up inside my body in case we don’t have enough later – there will be enough.
I can let go of the shame and fear that somehow got attached to my body and sex. I am enough to make this physical thing my soul is attached to into something beautiful – no matter what size it is. And I can let go of the resentment about being judged by or assigned worth by my pants’ size.
I am brave enough to say no to any unwanted sexual advances. I don’t need a wall between me and the bad guys. I can take care of us. Of myself. I can protect my body heart and mind from all of this. I will keep doing a better job of it. I am brave enough. I am strong enough. It is safe to be thin. Really, it is. It is safe to be the beautiful version of me.
We can let it go. We can. We have. We don’t have to have a target weight. We can have a target life. I want to be thin enough and strong enough that I can play in a million ways with the people I love. With myself. With my lover, wherever he is.
I can let go of the fear. I see it. I know it’s there. So, I must be able to deal with it. Otherwise I would not know about it yet. So, why am I afraid of these things? Lately, everything is coming back to love. Giving it to myself and others and being willing to accept it fully. So is that it? Do I want to be loved and I am afraid messing up this “weight” thing will make me unlovable?
How can I re-program that? I guess that’s the big question for now. And in the mean time I have to imagine that big life and keep telling myself that it is safe to let go.