I’m still lumpy.
Since about the age of 12 or so I was under the impression that if I just lost weight I’d look like all those pretty people in the magazines. You know, the white ones with long skinny bodies, toothpick arms, flawless complexions, and perfectly smooth skin.
I mean, I resembled them already. I am white. I have blond hair. I am tall. I’m expected to look like them. Right? They wouldn’t be in the magazine if they weren’t pretty. If they weren’t perfect. If they weren’t what I was suppose to look like.
Plus people told me all the time that “I’d be so pretty if I only lost weight.” Weren’t they really saying “I’d look like those beautiful people in the magazine” if I did?
But I didn’t. I never did.
I was lumpy.
So started my journey of dieting. There weren’t pro-anorexia sites let alone the internet as we know it in the early 90s but if there were you bet I would have been on them. I tried so hard not to eat. I really did. But I liked food too much. So I just ate. And ate. It made me feel good. It tasted good. Since I liked to eat so much I thought about purging…. but I wasn’t “strong” enough.
After a little while my body did start to change. I looked less and less like the people in the magazines. I hated myself more and more.
So I hid.
I hid in baggy clothes and men’s jeans. All the while wishing I could wear pretty sundresses or sleeveless shirts. The whole time still pursuing that perfect magazine body.
I made some–what I thought back then–was progress. I’d lose some weight eating only grapefruits or avoiding all carbs. Inevitably I gained it back. With a bit more as I ate more to punish myself for failing.
Food became the bane of my existence.
Food. The source of nutrients and fuel for my body caused me nothing but misery and torment for more then 15 years.
Then I got pregnant.
Not only did I have to accept that my body was about to change. Drastically. I had to learn how to eat for the sake of my unborn child. I had to. How could I teach him what happy and healthy was when I was so broken?
When that child came and I looked in his eyes I realized something. He could care less if I looked like those women in the magazine. For the first time I felt what it was like to love unconditionally and to be loved.
The pursuit of some magazine image now seemed so silly. I had other, more important things to worry about.
But something strange started to happen. As I taught myself how to eat again, not to reach some ridiculous unattainable goal of looking like someone in a magazine but to truly learn balance, I did lose weight.
I’m not gonna lie. I was happy to be losing. Who wouldn’t be after a lifelong pursuit of weight loss. But my mindset was changing. My motivation was different.
I lost more weight then I ever imagined possible. I was thinner then that 12 year old girl who thought looking like an image in a magazine would bring happiness.
But guess what.
I’m still lumpy.
And that’s ok.
I’m happier then I’ve ever been