Earlier this week, Patrick and I were cuddling down for a movie. I made myself a cup of tea, trying not to snack. "Ugh," I groaned, sitting down, "I just wish I could lose weight." He looked over at me, surprised, "Is that bothering you lately?"
And I didn't know how to answer because
1. Yes
and
2. Isn't it supposed to?
and
3. Of course it is
and
4. Every second
Of every day
Since I was nine
and
7. Doesn't everyone feel like this?
And then I realized his surprise was genuine. He was just hanging out, enjoying a cup of tea, surprised to hear I was feeling down on myself for my weight. This was the innocent question of a person who hadn't thought about his own weight today, this week, maybe this whole month.
I keep mulling it over. It's been a weird few days. But I feel like Patrick's question was straight from God.
Because I'm having a really hard time imagining a single hour where I don't feel bad for looking like I do, let alone a day or two, let alone "lately." Not a day goes by when I don't tell myself I need to try harder to lose weight, do better, be better.
(Since I was nine or ten, there have been maybe 3 times when I was happy with my size. And I spent most of those times worrying about how I would feel when the number inevitably changed. I felt less embarrassed about cameras, and loved buying clothes, but I didn't relax or rest in it.)
And that's a whole lot of gross. That's so gross. It makes me so angry that something so STUPID has eaten up so much of my mental and emotional energy.
I love the people I love because of their character. Their personalities. Their kindness, warmth, intelligence, gentleness, humour, compassion. Never once have I thought about them "um, you're okay and everything, but I'd really love you if you only lost fifty pounds." Because when it comes to other people's true beauty, I very easily realize they are a soul, within a body.
But I get it mixed up for myself every damn day.
I haven't blogged in a long time, and I kind of feel like this is too personal to share, but I also want to hold up the mirror in case there is someone else who is doing the same thing to their precious self.
You don't deserve a constant diet of hatred.
No matter what size you are.
So maybe I won't worry so much about putting down the chips, and I'll worry a little more about putting down the criticism. Maybe I won't worry about the size of my clothes as much as the size of my compassion. And maybe someday I'll get to the point where I'm as surprised as Patrick when someone mentions worrying about their weight.
Because that's the person I'd really love to see in the mirror.
