Friday, January 4, 2013
And in this same vein, I finally stepped on the scale this morning. The last time I weighed, my number was nine pounds lower than my highest weight, and this morning my weight was four pounds lower than that. So I'm pleased. I wish I had the courage to declare that number, but I don't yet. One step at a time, right? I will eventually put my weight out there (or here, as it were). Just not yet.
There are few people who know how much I weigh. I haven't even told my husband that number. There's still too much shame attached to my weight. I obviously have work to do beyond diet and exercise. I need to learn to let go of the shame and embarrassment. One step toward that end is to talk about my weight as it relates to my body rather than as the whole of who I am. In other words, rather than to say "I am this weight," I want to learn that my body weighs this much. I have defined ME by my weight since the age of ten. That's forty-three years!
I have viewed my world through the filter of fat and overweight for as long as I can remember. And worse, I have presumed that people have viewed and judged me based on my girth. I believed that I needed to do something to deflect the attention from my body so people would like me. I've always been considered funny. Much of my humor, I believe, came out of a desire for people to see past the fat.
I need to learn deep in the core of my being that I am more than a number on the scale. When I'm huffing and puffing or hot and sweaty, I need to stop saying, "I'm disgusting," and instead say, "I feel disgusting." I need to stop giving in to the lifelong habit of self-deprecating humor when I feel awkward or uncomfortable. I don't need to beat others to the punch by putting myself down before they get a chance to, because in fact, they're probably not thinking about my weight at all. I need to give people a chance to know ME, and to see that I am like everyone, a complex person with many positive qualities. I need to start seeing myself as God sees me. I believe He made me, and that I was neither an accident nor a substandard issue. I'm a child of God. He loves me. My husband loves me. My children love me. My friends enjoy my place in their lives. I have value far beyond the number on my scale. I'm learning. I really am.
Subject change: My son is in the air as I tap out these words on the machine. His flight took off about 8 minutes early, and by 1:00 pm EST he should be landing in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. What a nice 2 weeks we had with him home. He traipsed here and there, saw friends, hung out with his siblings and us, and relaxed at home. He's heading back to finish this school year teaching down there, then coming home in June to move into the next chapter of his life. I'm so happy for him to have grabbed this opportunity and run with it. He's making memories that will live in him for the rest of his life.
I have also been on vacation - one of the perks of working in education - and I've been able to see quite a bit of my kids during these two weeks. That's always a good thing. But my time off is winding down. It's back to school on Monday for teacher planning day, then the students return on Tuesday. I'm eager to dive into our second semester, because we can't get to the year's end if we don't start now. So I'll enjoy the next few days and appreciate the peace of my home. I'll do my best to keep my eyes on the prize, taking life one bite at a time (pun intended).
Until next time . . .