I will admit it.
I am vain. I love how I look. Mostly. Sometimes. I love that I have long hair that I think is pretty. I love that I have big eyes. I have a picture in my head of what I would love to look like. I do not look like that. You see, that picture is about 25 pounds lighter than I am right now. Yes, I do realize that is a bit crazy and no I am not even trying to get there. You see, I’ve started telling my inner voice that describes that picture to SHUT UP.
Before I knew to call what I feel on a daily basis anxiety, I knew I felt a sick feeling every time I thought about gaining weight or getting old. If I wasn’t “pretty”, would people still like me? Would they still listen to me? Would I still exist? Cue the sick feeling and breathlessness. That feeling often made me put down what I was eating and do something else. In fact, in a period of high stress, I quit eating almost completely. I felt so in control as the pounds fell off. Right up until one of my friends told me that someone asked her if I was sick. Like cancer sick. That was a wakeup call. I started eating again and the pounds came back. I felt better, though, and I was in a better place so I was okay with it.
Every once in a while the feeling came back.
These days, I am doing much better and the anxious feelings are kept at bay by medication. The positive is that I feel so much better. The negative is that the scale is registering more than it has in a LONG time. That little voice comes back and says “you SHOULD care….you SHOULD diet….you SHOULD be thinner” and then the anxiety feelings break through and I start listening to that voice.
Even though I know that I am more than my weight. I am more than my age and I am more than how I look.
I am a mom.
I am a wife.
I am a friend.
I am good enough.
No matter how much I weigh. Now if I could just tell that little voice to take a hike. One day at a time.
Chasing my happy and chasing my smile because it is my very best feature.