Gratitude for My Body

I have been hosting a personal development book club where we are reading The Magic by Rhonda Byrne. The basic concept of the book is that gratitude can change every area of your life. It's the secret to success.

I have noticed an improvement in my outlook on life and even in my relationship with my husband. I take the time to think about, and write down, things I'm grateful for every morning. When you stop to think about it, there are so many things to be grateful for.

One of the chapters is about practicing gratitude for health. In that chapter, Byrne writes about how each body part plays a very important role and we should be grateful for each one.

If you've read my blog for any amount of time, you would know that I have very poor body image. I've been known to say that I hate my body and feel trapped inside of it. I focus so much on the fat that I forget to be grateful.

Yes, my midsection is large--but I carried a child for 9 months, it houses many vital organs, and works just as well as any skinny person's midsection.

My legs are larger than I would like, and I've always hated my wide calves. But, I can walk, run, and get around so easily. I am so grateful for my legs.

My arms are flabby and I'm embarrassed about stretch marks that I've had since I was a teenager (or sooner!). But my arms allow me to carry my little girl, to embrace my husband, and serve such an important purpose. I am incredibly grateful for my arms.

Maybe self-love is so much more than just accepting my body as it is, but it is actually being grateful for my body as well. Every single moment is a gift.

Why spend those moments worrying about something so insignificant as undesirable fat when I could be grateful for all of the positive aspects of my body and truly enjoy and embrace life.

On another note, being grateful for my body should also mean that I take good care of it. When we truly appreciate something, we do our best to keep it in good shape. Taking care of the body means eating foods that are good for the body, exercising, and so much more.

Gratitude can lead the way!

Conference in Chicago {Pictures}

A couple of weeks ago, I attended a conference in the Chicago area. Hubby and the little one came along and had some time together while I was busy with the conference. We really enjoyed it. 

I think hubby would make a better SAHM than I am!! He did mention that it is hard to take her places by yourself. But he had her taking a nap in the back seat of the car (when they had to check out of the hotel), and she was just well behaved overall! I think it was good for both of them.

The hotel was incredible and one of the fanciest I've ever stayed at. The bathroom mirror had a TV built into it. I requested a suite, if they had one available, because the little one sleeps so much better when she's in another room--and so do we! I didn't think we'd actually get one, but it never hurts to try. Well, we did! It was a huge room. The bathroom was actually a walk through, so you could access it from both the bedroom part and the living room part. We almost lost our incidental deposit immediately when we walked into the room-- Little Miss Sunshine went right for that blue vase!

I was able to meet some of the women I've been working with and developed some friendships. Overall, it was just a great experience for me!

Here I am all ready for the event!

Here is my team:

These women have helped inspire me and motivate me. I'm so grateful for meeting each and every one!

I loved being around a group of people with the same interests and positivity as me. In many ways, I felt like the "real me" belonged there and the "body that I'm stuck in" didn't. It gave me motivation to become that person on the outside and to not be afraid to be me.

I took this picture while at the event, and while I'm embarrassed to show my body and all of my imperfections, I took a minute to just be me and try not to worry about what anyone else would think, how fat I look, how flabby my arms were, etc. etc. etc.

 

It's not about waiting until I'm a certain size or weight to truly be me-- I am free to be me RIGHT NOW. It takes courage, but I'm working on it. 

I've entered another challenge to inspire me to transform myself. And so did the rest of my team!

I have so much more to talk about in regard to my journey. I feel like I'm making progress mentally and my therapy has really helped with that. I don't see the changes immediately, but then a while later I think back and realize that I've started to implement some of the recommendations. 

Now to just get this body in shape! I want to change over night but I know that won't happen. I get so discouraged when I step on the scale and nothing has changed. I did so well last week while I stayed with my parents and then the holiday weekend kind of threw me off track. The good news is that I have been getting in activity almost every single day.

I will have another post soon with what's been happening lately! 

Me Time

I could feel myself nearing the edge. My patience was beginning to wear thin. I was starting to pick fights with my hubby. Anger and resentment began to surface like little bubbles. Depression loomed ahead—I could see it and physically feel it taking over.

I finally realized that what I really needed was some “me” time. Just a little space and time to myself—to breathe, to think, to just be.

I used to think that taking time for myself was selfish. I still feel a pang of guilt every time I leave for a couple of hours. I’m afraid of judgement—like moms are just supposed to continually give of themselves without rest.

Now I know that me time is essential. If I’m not taking care of myself, it makes it much more difficult to take care of my family. It’s not selfish if it’s making me a better mother, wife, and friend. It’s the “put the oxygen mask on yourself first, before you try to save others” concept.

I try to take a couple of hours per week for myself. This hasn’t happened in quite a few weeks and I hadn’t realized it. I’ve had appointments here and there, but not any real down time when the only person I had to take care of was myself.

Today, I met my friend at the gym and we walked on the treadmill and talked. After that, we both had a quick 10 minute massage. We followed it up with lunch. It was perfect. I felt so much better.

It was the first time I’ve been to the gym since maybe February. Oh my goodness. That’s far too long. I was reminded of how much I enjoy going and how much I need it.

I’m working on making a peaceful place in the back yard where I can sit this summer. I think it will be great during nap times. It is good for the soul to be outside!

So anyways, I am proud of myself for getting to the gym—but I’m trying to focus on the fact that exercise should be about loving myself enough to take care of myself and not some punishment because I am not good enough the way that I am.

My goal is to take care of myself, take time for myself, and get healthy because I love myself. I’ve been asking myself the question, “What would I do in this situation if it were about loving myself and not just an old, bad habit?” It will take time to change my thought process—but I’m working on it!

Self-Hatred & Eating Disorders

Do you know what it’s like to hate yourself? To feel trapped inside a body that feels out of control?

I don’t remember exactly when I started hating myself so much. It began in childhood. The self-hatred comes and goes in unrelenting phases directly corresponding to my weight or my perceived success to a weight loss or exercise regimen.

There is never a moment when I am not painfully aware of the fat which rests on my lap when I’m sitting, that widens my hips, that balloons my arms, and makes me feel like I make the earth shake with every step.

I avoid mirrors as much as possible. I don’t like to see the reality. It makes me hate myself more.

I know that my body will never be beautiful because it will always be scarred with stretch marks from my childhood days. I’m forever conscious of them, although I try to ignore them and feign confidence.

I try to stand tall and to at least appear to love myself, but the thoughts inside my head never stop. It’s my stomach, my arms, my legs, my face, my hair, my feet—the only part of me I don’t hate are my eyes.

I feel trapped, yet I’m holding the key in my hands. It seems that freedom is just a choice away, that it should be easy—it seems so straightforward. Yet it’s elusive. Sometimes I think I have both feet planted on freedom’s shore, only to find myself lost and shipwrecked on a solitary island—no sails to catch the wind, no vessel to float—nothing but me and my self-inflicted prison of fat.

I have learned that self-hatred is at the core of eating disorders. Some hate themselves so they restrict food, others binge on food and then purge, and then there are those of us who feel unable to stop overeating but don’t purge and rather build ever-growing walls of shame around ourselves.

Hate. Shame. Guilt. Despair.

Helpless. Worthless.

I am tempted to give up—to shove it all inside and continue to pretend that I’m ok, to stop going to therapy, and to resign myself to obesity. It would be so much easier. But I would only hate myself more.

It is hard to accept what I feel. It’s hard to identify what I feel. How can I be so disconnected from myself? It’s me after all— these are my own thoughts, coming from my own brain. Yet I don’t know myself at all. There’s an enemy residing inside my brain spewing negative thoughts.

Every negative emotion has been shoved deeper into my soul with every bite until my heart is like concrete. And then I hate myself more because of it.

Believe in Yourself

A couple of weeks ago, I stepped on the scale to see a huge weight gain for the week. I was discouraged and disappointed in myself. The self-hatred cycle began.

It’s so easy for thoughts to spin out of control. In these moments, I can’t see to stop thinking about how much I hate myself, how much I’ve always hated myself, how incredibly worthless I am, and how I will never be able to change.

Yes, I feel this way simply because I am overweight.

It was one of those days where these thoughts overwhelmed me. There was no ebb and flow in the tide of these thoughts, but it was an incessant crashing of negativity on my soul that left me feeling desperate.

Anyone who has been there knows how it feels. You’re helpless. Moments like this reaffirm that you are not good enough—you never have been and you never will be.

I was pushing my cart through Wal-Mart on a grocery trip, resisting the urge to buy Cadbury eggs and stuff them into my mouth when I was alone where no one could judge me. I didn’t want to look at anyone, nor did I want anyone to notice me. I imagined that everyone around saw me as a lazy, fat slob and these thoughts continued to painfully wrench at my heart.

I glanced up from my self-despair just in time to see a fellow overweight woman. She wore a shirt which read,

Yes! That is exactly what I lacked. Positive beliefs in myself.

Having a lifelong struggle with being overweight becomes a part of your identity—a part of yourself that you wish you could leave in your past but it follows you around like a relentless stalker.

Even on the good days, when you’re running full speed ahead, salty-sweat dripping from your reddened face—you can hear the heavy footsteps behind you reminding you that the moment you stop running is the moment that your fatness will overtake you again. It’s always there, lurking and ready to strike and latch onto your ample thighs.

I believe that I will always struggle with my weight. I think some of us are just predisposed to the struggle—it doesn’t mean we can’t effectively get our weight under control, it just means that we’ll probably always have that stalker and we’ll always hear those footsteps following, but we have to keep running.

But this belief doesn’t have to be the sole belief that I have about myself—and it shouldn’t be.

Believe in yourself.

I began to realize, “hey—I’m a pretty decent human being, even if I am fat.” I believe that there is so much more to myself than my exterior. I am kind, compassionate, a loving wife, a good mother, a thoughtful friend, and I believe that I have so much more to offer the world than just what can be seen by looking at me.

I believe that I am more than my struggle with obesity.

I believe that my family and friends realize this even in the times when I do not.

There are times when we are simply supported by the positive beliefs that our loved ones have about us—like an ever faithful crutch to lean on in times of desperation.

But if we want to continue becoming better, we eventually have to look up from our struggles, gather our strength and courage, and begin to believe in ourselves the way that we are meant to—with love and gratitude for this precious gift of life.

I am more. You are more. Believe it.

Inspiration Sunday