Eating What I Want:
No Shame, No Regrets!
Because your weight isn’t all that matters.
I went through that awkward chubby phase as a kid. I think we all did. Did I eat too much? Not really. Was I inactive? Hardly. Did I have a hang up with food? Never. I don’t actually remember food being an enemy of mine. My mom never made comments about my eating habits or my body shape.
In fact, she was always very active and taught me how to cook. Food was fun!
I played every sport I could. I was pretty athletic as a little girl. Certainly not the dainty or delicate type. I always played with the boys becuase I could afford to be more rough. I don’t recall anyone calling me names or mentioning my weight. Looking back, I don’t think I ever had time to sit still long enough to listen. It never ever crossed my mind to be embarassed about who I was.
I work with a lot of young women who suffer severe self esteem issues. It takes one negative comment to set these women on a negative course. Each one can pinpoint the exact comment. It’s fascinating how one innocent comment said in passing can change the course of a life. I’ve always wondered how that works. I’ve learned to develop a thick skin and really ignore nay-sayers. Doesn’t mean a negative comment doesn’t hurt. It simply hurts for less time.
I decided my life wouldn’t be wrapped around being self conscious. I didn’t want to spend my life in the shadows because I have body fat. I took on a “Who cares!” Kind of attitude. I’m not in it to be perfect and I don’t have to justify my body to anyone. I learned a harsh lesson long ago. Those who are hurling the insults often are hurting inside. I feel sorry for those people and want to help them. That’s why I don’t take insults personally. It’s often never really about me.
I may come across as non-chalant. Is it really that easy to be so carefrere about your body? No. I’ve had many moments of self doubt. I’ve looked in the mirror and felt unpretty. I looked down at my stomach and wish it was flatter. I spent most most of my life feeling like the “ugly duckling” becuase guys were never interested in me. Yes, it bothered me. No, it didn’t bother me enough to make me want to change.
Trying to be perfect means chasing an impossible dream.
I’d rather be happy as an imperfect person than be miserable because I’m not perfect.
I’m not really hung up on food. I don’t count calories or worry excessively about carbohydrates and sugar. I’m “a little bit of everything” type of gal. I find much more freedom in allowing little bits of what I want. I’m still active and exercise 4-5 days per week. Will I worry about that one piece of birthday cake? Nah. I trust myself to keep it reasonable. Life is far too short to deny yourself something for the sake of a pound.