I debated for a long time whether or not to openly share this post; not composing it was never an option due to the cathartic nature of the reasons behind why I write. But as time went on, I realised that as a whole we aren’t open enough about our vulnerabilities and the struggles we go through in life and therefore felt compelled to post this piece.
Over the recent past I’ve felt the compounding depths of despair as I bemoaned the hyper fluctuation in my weight. I’ve often thought that this was never really anything that mattered to me and over the span of about 5 years I can only recall getting on the scales about once or twice. Last year however, I lost a fair amount of weight, without even meaning to. All of sudden I felt an all consuming urge to not only keep that weight off but lose substantially more. As I look back on it all I’m still struggling to comprehend this fast moving effect and how important it became to me. I began indulging in some entirely unhealthy practices in order to keep up my never ending pursuit of the next version of skinny, of attractiveness, of so called perfection. I gave into a cycle of binging and then purging and all the while the guilt of it all was slowly but certainly eating me up inside.
I remember looking at my existence and thinking that I had allowed this one element to consume every waking moment of my life. It soon became an endless rotation of either worrying about my next meal or calorie counting to a tee and starving myself until the next one. I began weighing myself at least twice a day and even a slight fluctuation would result in a depressive plunge that left me debilitated. Out of nowhere, I had gone from a free thinking, IDGAF attitude wielding badass woman to a neurotic, obsessive calorie counter that could see nowhere past the upkeep of her ‘skinny’ image. What had happened to me and how had it occurred so quickly and seemingly without my knowledge?
It’s safe to say that I never thought I would be that person. I’ve now stopped weighing myself because I want my life to be about so much more than the superficial. I also realised that in my pursuit of that warped version of perfection, every step I made towards it was actually pushing it further away. At the rate that I was going at, nothing would ever be good enough and I shudder to think where that lifestyle would have taken me had I let it.
I still struggle with letting go of that level of micro control even today, but I also understand that in holding those reigns so tightly and choosing to focus so narrowly on a tainted version of the perfect I was vastly diminishing my quality of life. I am more than my weight, I am more than my physical appearance. From now on I choose to feed my soul and that is what I will focus on moving forward.