I am on vacation. You would think i would gay and happy. I am surely gay but I do not feel very happy.
I am in gorgeous Montana with my partner, daughter, and son-in-law. I can do anything I want to do. My MT family are supportive and loving.
Yet, here I am hating my body. Wishing I was dead. Wishing my gut wasn’t so big. Still wanting to eat everything in sight and then hating myself for eating everything.
My emotions are controlled by my body, it appears. If my body feels thin, I am happy. If my body feels fat, which is most of the time, I am miserable.
I have gained 20 lbs since last year. I wasn’t skinny before the 20 lbs and I surely am not skinny with 20+ lbs on this 5’5″ frame. I have never been a skinny girl. that has never been my story. Even when I have lost some weight and felt a little better about myself, I was never a skinny chick.
at my “skinniest”, I am still a fluffy (er) girl. I have curves and rolls and my boobs bulge the buttons of the shirts. I wriggle and shimmer and shake to get into my jeans or shorts. I suck in my belly almost all of the time. I am not comfortable in my body. I am always trying to suck it, tuck it, make it smaller or smoother. It only works partially, in my mind. My body never changed from the spanks or the sucking in. It is just the same. The only thing that changes when I use or do those things is that I feel more aware of my bulging belly and under arm over the bra bulge. I feel self conscious. I feel every is judging me I feel every one is seeing my bulging body and thinking I’m gross. I talk to myself the whole time, judging my curves, hating my fluff, disgusted by the back-arm-bra- bulge in a constant state of comparison and perpetually being the fattest and the grossest.
The Portuguese word for “I” is “eu” and it is pronounced “ewww”. That “ewwwww” seems to capture how I feel myself and how “I” is interpreted by me, ewwwwwww.
Really, Dawn? Really? How do I encourage and support other women to love and honor themselves when I cannot find the space to honor myself? I can’t love myself. I have not been able to find the love and acceptance for myself.
I know there is a way to expand and grow my love of myself. I just continue to gross myself out and then shame myself for my feelings of shame. Then I eat something.
What is this feeling that prompts my eating? Honestly, I think it is a void I am filling. I say I am hungry but I don’t seem to be hungry. But I feel I am not enough and maybe if i stuff that emptiness with the most delicious foods, I won’t feel so empty. I feel I am living in lack and going without but if I just eat this one more meal, i will start tomorrow and tomorrow I won’t feel such lack in myself and in my life. but I don’t feel my life is lacking.
Yet, I am unable to sit still, just BE.
There in lies the whole crux, methinks. I am unable to just be, in my skin, in my thoughts, in my beliefs, in my feelings. I need something food, drink, work, busy-ness, bitchiness, something to fill that space of not wanting to sit in it with myself.
I recommitted to writing this blog on a daily basis to count down the days until MFR, 26 days until MFR, by the by. I wanted to chronicle the challenges and the planning of producing MFR. I wanted to share the feelings of being frantic and overwhelmed with all of the parts of producing MFR.
Now, I think that maybe I need to chronicle my feelings of being with myself. Just being.
Feeling fat is a reflection of my feelings about me. I want to continue to write and explore these feelings of not wanting to feel in the next several weeks as I navigate final production of MFR.
I promise to practice loving self-talk and if I don’t “follow all the rules” of what I think and feel I “should” be doing. Somehow, somewhere I set these rules for myself and they all just need to be chucked in the fuck up bucket.
I say these words not for you but for me. Because when all is said and done, I am living for me and my happiness since nobody else can do it for me.
I am beautiful regardless of how much I suck it in.
I am beautiful if my belly bulges. My appearance has nothing to do with my worthiness. Skinny is not prettier. I am perfect.