Challenge: Let It Go (no, not the song)
The past is the past, why are you still holding on to it? Why are you still letting it affect you? What’s don’t is done; be done with it. Move on. Stop letting it hold you back.
Oh, if it were that easy. I guess if you want to let go of the past, you have to confront it. I’m good at avoidance. I’m good at turning a blind-eye. I’m good at pretending everything is just fine and dandy.
Okay, so I’ll confront my past, some of it I remember, some of it I blocked out. It’s the ones I blocked out that scare me; how bad does something have to be that my brain says, “Nope, can’t handle that, we’re just going to put this one in a room, lock the door, and build a brick wall in front of it.”? And some that I remember, I am too ashamed and embarrassed to admit, to speak it out loud.
This whole, ‘let’s confront the past so we can move forward’ came about because I turned 39. Turning 39 depressed me, don’t know why, it just did. I moped for 2 weeks, then I kicked myself in the bum.
I was overweight, way overweight. I used my weight as a defense and as a wall, to isolate myself. If I was fat, my husband wouldn’t want me and would leave me alone. I guess if I’m honest, it also gave me a physical excuse for the truth I already knew but would not accept; my husband simply just did not love me. But if I was fat, I could blame the fat and not me, as he had.
Then, after we split, I stayed fat because that was my excuse for not pursuing any other relationship, ever. As I am writing about this and thinking about it, I realize that I used ‘fat’ as a reason for not pursuing relationships instead of the real reason, I was used, unlovable, and worthless.
Ouch, this hurts, but sitting here, writing this, I realized I had become, or believed myself to be, everything my husband had said I was, and made me feel I was; I just didn’t want to face it. I t is easier to say you were rejected because you were frat instead of because you were fat instead of because you are a disgusting thing that nobody would want. Have I portrayed this image to my children? What kind of role model have I been?
Anyways, back to 39. I turned 39 and I was sad, no, I was angry, and I didn’t know why. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw that I had become everything my husband had said I was. I wanted to break every mirror in the house! I decided then and there, 2 weeks after my 39th birthday, I was NOT GOING TO LET HIM WIN! He could no longer have the power over me, I was going to take back control of my life. I made a choice. I could choose, funny, I didn’t think I had a choice. I chose to live, I chose to tear down the wall, the fat.
That day I started to take my life back. It wasn’t a diet it was a life choice, or, a choice of life. Instead of finding comfort in food, I looked for it in friends, I found it with my kiddos, with must finding the smallest blessing in each day.
Almost a year later, I’ve lost a tone of weight. I was so busy learning to live, I didn’t really notice. I mean, yes, I noticed, but it wasn’t my priority. Yes, I began taking pictures more. My sister had told me, “You don’t have any pictures of you with the kids. What are they going to have when they are older?” So, yes, tons of pictures of us!
Almost a year later, what’s new? How is life? Did I win?
I don’t think I have any more weight to lose; muscles and skin to tighten maybe, but I think my weight loss is done. The physical, minus a bit of extra skin, was done.
I realized, I mean, I knew all along, I just finally had to admit it to myself. I had fixed the ‘physical’ part of myself, but I had yet to tackle the mental/emotional part of my past. Let me tell you, I’d rather have to lose the weight all over again than have to confront those demons, but confront them is exactly what I had/have to do. I will do this for my kiddos, but mainly, for myself. I will do this with laughter, with tears, and with honesty. I just home I come out on the other side with my sanity still intact.