F-A-T

I hate that word more than most in the English language. Most people who know me aren't surprised by my propensity to swear, however one word you will never hear me use is F-A-T.

It's a major piece of my worthiness. My weight. My size.
I'd say this is an embarrassing thing to admit, but I suspect many of my girlfriends and female family members feel much the same way.

I judge myself based on the size of my clothes.
The number on the scale.
The rolls I never used to have.
This extra... larger than before body mass that I swore I'd never have. Own. Rent.

But man oh man, it's here now.
I am so embarrassed by it. I find myself doing two things regularly:

1. Assuming, when meet someone, they are looking at my body in disgust. I hear things like, 'she thinks I'm the F-A-T mom' and 'wow she got big after her kids were born' most times I meet someone.

and

2. Quickly, and without fail, telling near strangers about how big I am, and how I know I need to lose weight. How's that for a conversation starter? Oi.

Then, last week this meme popped up on my Facebook newsfeed:

Hmm.
That is a pretty worthy statement.
I have learned, through meditation, to separate my thoughts from myself. I have thoughts, but I am not my thoughts.

Why shouldn't I look at my F-A-T the same way?
This meme actually led me to admit something else to myself...

I've been punishing myself, for this extra F-A-T, but avoiding clothes shopping. I have purchased so few items for myself the last two years, always rationalizing it by saying I'll lose the F-A-T and get back into my old clothes.

Well, guess what?
That was a terrible idea.

I have managed to erode my self-worth to the point I need to blog about it :)
All kidding aside, I have struggled with this feeling ever since Ethan was born.

Two and a half years.
Why then? Why still now?

That I don't have the answer to, just yet.

The problem is...

It has been years since I truly loved myself.
Since I felt comfortable and happy and proud to just be me.

As a human being.

Not as a professional. For some strange reason, that part of my life is not affected by this. I feel confident, intelligent and motivated when I consider my career and the work surrounding it.

But not my being.

In fact, I dislike (strongly) the outer portion of my being, my body, more now than I ever have in my entire life.

Yet I feel like a traitor.
I should love my body.

It nurtured and grew three beautiful children.
It birthed two, and survived the emergency C-section of the third.
It's endured breastfeeding, multiple surgeries for ovarian cysts, a gall bladder removal and continues to endure more crooked neck-sleeping-with-kiddos hangovers than I'd like.

I struggle to accept compliments.
I get antsy when my husband tells me I am beautiful.

I rarely look at myself and think, I am worthy.
When I look into my own eyes, I cringe.
Who am I? Really?

Hmmmm.

I don't have the answers just yet, but I've realized that I am holding on to unworthiness. And so I've created this blog, My Journey to Worthy, to diarize my mindful attempt to move to a place of self love.

Thanks for reading.
I hope to inspire a few friends and family members to reflect, as I will be, on the very essence of their being. xo


PS: I am grateful to Shawna, from Be Free, for the chance to immerse myself in her HappyYou program, as it will provide the basis for the next six weeks of blog posts, and the first part of my journey. In addition, I'll be reflecting and sharing my learnings, stumbles and a-ha moments along the way.