I have all the reasons to sit around indoors and not move so it takes effort to kick myself out of the excessive comfort and monotony of being primarily inside my house for the past year. Having also been weighed down with thoughts and insecurities related to my body, what I was eating, and lots of disordered eating behaviors for a while, being at home has really helped me face these head on. It has encouraged me to incorporate movement that I want, step away from the self-hate and give myself grace, and that trickled over to other areas of my life. Instead of doing things just to do them, I’ve been able to be more intentional with finding physical activity or hobbies that feel good to me. So here I am in this happy place with movement and worrying so much less about what I eat, and then I saw the number.
The other day, I had a doctor’s appointment, and I was asked to step on the scale. Usually I divert my eyes. I’m not sure why I looked this time but the number shocked me. It was higher than I’ve ever weighed in my life.
I’ll spare you all the mental chatter that occurred, but to put it simply: I panicked. Where did all of the body positivity, intuitive eating, self-loving and self-respecting beliefs of mine go? I then asked myself if this could be any other way.
Is there an area of my life that I have been neglecting?
Could I incorporate more healthful habits for myself?
Do I feel satisfied with the way I have been treating myself?
I know I can tell myself I’ve been doing the best I can given the circumstances and there is no need to be so hard on myself.
The marker of what’s “good and right” should not be numbers on a scale but how well you treat yourself.
I mean, my goodness, if fluctuations in weight come from happily, comfortably, and peacefully living life, then there is no reason to worry.
On the other hand, it can be a signal that you haven’t been taking the best care of yourself. I say this not to perpetuate fat-phobia but, just from my own experience. I tend to hold onto emotions and stressors and that takes a toll. Even that phrase about “carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders” is indicative of how stress can weigh you down.
It’s a fine line and I’m not a doctor. I’m just someone who has been victim to diet culture before and now advocates for self-work and the 360° picture of well-being. It’s not about only tending to the physical side but paying attention what’s going on mentally/emotionally can significantly change the way you see and feel in your body!
Around this time last year my disordered eating came to a head in a way that really forced me to deal with it.
There’s nothing like being alone with yourself and you’re gnarly habits right? The strictness and rules I had around food began to soften and that made me realize how deprived I was.
Deprived of joy
Deprived of peace
Deprived of rest
Deprived of satisfaction
Deprived of experiences
Deprived of self-love
I felt unaccomplished and unfulfilled in LIFE and that manifested on my plate.
Maybe I didn’t have my life together but I could kind of feel like I did by meeting the expectations around being “a healthy person”. And that made me feel accomplished.
Until it didn’t.
Food, health, nutrition, and my obsessions with anything related to my diet and fitness were things to keep my mind occupied. I thought: it is better to be a success in this area then be a failure–or worse, a *beginner* at other things. Not that being a beginner is bad but I just wanted to feel good at something and stick with something! Like I had my life together.
I’ve redefined what healthy means to me. And hot damn, it goes far beyond food. Plus, it’s not that big of a deal if anyone else thinks I have my life together. To those who try extra hard to paint that facade on social media (as I did), I encourage you to look within and notice where you can give yourself more.
Fulfillment doesn’t come from excessively doing or excessively holding on, it comes from sampling little joys in a variety of places because no ONE THING exists to fulfill us.
So, I choose to not spend my time dwelling on a number on the scale and instead think about the number on my self-love and happiness level which, if I’m being real, is better than it’s ever been.
I share this not because being vulnerable is fun but because I know I’m not the only one who feels that their body has changed along with them during this past year and sometimes that’s uncomfortable to think about.
Last year I kept repeating to myself: life opens up when you do. So, a year later, I just feel really glad that I’ve done that. That I continue to find ways to do that. If you can relate at all, I wish you the openness that you seek.
xo,
Melanie