I feel very vulnerable sharing this. It’s easier to pretend like everything is easy, that every challenge is simple and that I have it all together. The picture above makes me want to hide. Why am I showing that to the world?
I believe in authenticity.
I had never been so frustrated in my life as the day in September, 2016 that I saw this photo:
Six days a week CrossFit. Running. Hiking. Eating right. Why wouldn’t that thing around my middle go away?
I’d never been skinny that I could remember. But there are a few fat times that really stick out in my mind, many of them as a teen.
There’s the time I felt embarrassed browsing for size 18. There’s the times I looked at pictures and wondered why I looked so fat. There’s stepping on the scale, seeing “180” and vowing to never see that number again (although I would). That was immediately followed by the undiagnosed eating disorder, when I decided that just not eating anything would solve the problem and make me “perfect.” I was 16, and felt huge on the outside, but shaky and scared and small on the inside.
Then there were the days after college that I decided to start eating “low fat” versions of things instead of the regular kind, because why not. And it did help. That was followed by years of a never ending flow of Diet Coke (it literally has zero calories — like some kind of voodoo magic) that I made me feel full. Also, it was delicious and made my brain feel good. I supplemented it with low-fat wheat thins, and modeled my eating habits on those I saw from women while growing up. What’s wrong with a diet coke, a handful of crackers, cheese and apples for meals? And why didn’t it result in fitness and weight loss?