As promised, I am on an adventure.
It has been a cautious one. I am a careful adventurer.
Careful not to overstep any boundaries or tell anyone exactly where I think my
trails will lead. Careful not to step on toes, hurt feelings or set high
expectations.
Dear world, I am fat.
No sugarcoating because I am pretty sure those refined
sugars are exactly what got me here in the first place.
Not only am I fat, but I am also a coward.
I was afraid to feel what my collarbones felt like just
barely jutting out my skin.
I was afraid to measure the angle of the beauty of my own
pelvic bone, because I couldn’t see it.
I was afraid to feel my lungs reach for air after running
like I was being chased by the smell of failure.
I hit rock bottom, kids. It was actually a friendly one
despite critical accounts of other rock bottoms.
This rock bottom was not that rude. It wasn’t christened by
more than a few violating anti-catcalls from grown men that needed to feel like
their former bullies.
Or maybe I just stopped remembering.
I stopped thinking about the days where I would unconsciously
force any attractive being into a potential partner just because they had the
gall to smile at me.
I remember being told that I should stop being attracted to
those men; they won’t be attracted to me.
They probably won’t be attracted this post or impressed by my
appropriate use of a semi-colon. They probably won’t care that I grew up
thinking the only sound of applause I would ever hear in my honor was the
thunderous clap of my thighs slapping together any day I thought I looked cute
in a dress.
They won’t care that I grew up with the nervous tic of
tucking my hair behind my ear because I was sure that no man would find me
worthy enough to do it for me.
I don’t care that they don’t care.
That is what my rock bottom looks like.
Today is a celebration of rock bottom. It is a celebration
of a little over a month. It is a celebration of my hypochondria setting in
after 3 consecutive weeks of going to the gym 4 times a week. This is a
celebration of pain.
This is honesty.
This is asking you if you didn’t pay attention to me 27lbs
ago, feel free not to do it now.
One of my favorite (albeit grossly overused) quotes goes
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not
our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be
brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You
are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is
nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure
around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make
manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's
in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other
people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our
presence automatically liberates others.”
I am not inadequate. My light just needed at least 27lbs off
of it for me to remember that it was there.
So, I will continue. Running awkwardly like I am being chased
until I finish my 5k. Hypochondriacally googling said running to make sure that
it is okay for fat people to run... like I am....which is awkwardly. I will
continue to politely decline bread and delicacies (except Fridays).
I will plan
for a future that I plan on being healthy enough to live through.
I don’t regret it. I don’t regret the attention and love
that I probably didn’t receive because of my weight. I don’t regret the fact
that I have been told I have a pretty face.
I do have a pretty face. Furthermore, I don’t need you to
love me. I am a selfish kind of lover. And right now I am too busy loving the
ever freaking daylights out of myself.
I will continue to push with the same alacrity that I have applied to my academics. I will continue to push. I will continue to run. I am
grateful those that push back and those that are running right behind me.
les
