I want to share with you a new revelation that is now only a little less than three days old. I have decided that I would no longer try to lose weight; as in getting on the scale, counting calories, and pulling out the dreaded pink tape measure.
Up until the age of 10, the doctors told my parents that I ran the risk of being “underweight” because I didn’t eat enough. I lived off David’s Nacho Cheese sunflower seeds and a variety of my favorite candies; both sold cheaply by the corner stores in my neighborhood. I remember my mother confiscating loads of candy from my bookbag on a bi-weekly basis and hiding them in her dresser drawer. I can even remember hearing her eat some if at night and me laying in my bed seething with anger that my stash was being compromised. This scenario sounds like that of an “overweight” kid, but I was tall, thin, all legs, and threatening my health by being “underweight.” Then, puberty hit in the latter of my year ten, and everything that was under rose above.
By age 11 I was given the pleasure of embarrassment inflicted by my father and brother who accompanied me to buy bras. They would walk through the racks looking for the largest cup sizes, take them off the hanger, and prance around the lingerie section with it laid on their chests. The loud, boisterous, and bold pre-teen that I was turned into a shy, shamed, and uncomfortable little girl. I remember asking the associate to help me measure because I did not know what size I was or what the numbers and letters even meant.
I don’t remember ever wearing a training bra. I didn’t learn of them until I was much older; discussing body shape and development with friends. I felt like I woke up one day and my breasts were too big to not put a bra on and the bras I started with quickly failed to support my ever-growing and ever-changing body.
At age 11 I was 5’ 8” and 191 pounds in the 6th grade. I wore a size 16-18 in women’s (I never shopped in juniors) and finally started wearing the right size bras: 38DD.
At age 33 I am now 5’9” and 198 pounds as a grown woman and I wear a size 10-12 in women’s.
If I chronicle pictures of my life, you will see a visual description of what happened over the last two decades. By the context given above, you would think; that not much has changed. You might say, “You grew one inch, gained seven pounds, and replaced some fat with muscle, which explains why your clothing size is smaller.”
Well, I have news for you. A lot changed in the two decades between then and now. I have been as small as a 145-pound woman wearing a size 4 and as big as a 215-pound woman wearing a size 14-16. I have been chasing the skinny girl of my dreams for over two whole decades. I have found her and lost her time and time again.
Today, I let her go. I release the figment of my imagination that keeps me from enjoying reality and truth. Today, I stop running after an image of myself made from the fragments of my self-confidence shattered by a life of comparison, shame, insults, and Hollywood.
This letting go is not a silent rebellion where I deliberately choose to pour into my body all that is damaging and unhealthy. No, this is a release by which I am free to give my body what it needs, listen to what is nutritionally missing, and choose according to what is necessary for life.
I drink oat milk or almond milk and try to stay away from soy
Because my body tells me that’s what it needs
I eat mainly vegan with the addition of seafood
Because my body tells me that’s what it needs
I may change my dietary choices tomorrow
If my body tells me that’s what it needs
Some call it “Seagan;” some call it vegan
But I eat what my body tells me it needs
Almost a decade ago I went vegan with a friend to honor her father who passed, I have eaten meat because social acceptance dictated that I do so, and I have practiced the overconsumption of cheese and milk products because the taste relieved the stress that others brought into my life, and I have skipped or added meals in the name of losing weight while staying socially engaged. For the last 20 years what I put in my body has been dictated by everyone except for the one that created it.
But I am most responsible. I have full access to The Heavenly Father who created this body and have never once asked Him about what I should put in it. I have not asked him how to manage my body so He can get the most glory from it and be efficiently fueled for what He has me to do in this life.
I won’t go on a rant about it, but I need to note that shifting my focus from unhealthy and superficial standards of weight loss has allowed me to focus more on my relationship with The Father.
The enemy will use anything as a distraction from God and we spend so much time belaboring the “big sins” that we miss how the enemy distracts us with the seemingly good things.
I pray that while reading this post you have gotten what you needed to get out of it. My revelation isn’t a one-size-fits-all all, but I hope it to be an encouragement for you to seek God about how to take care of yourself and work diligently to dismiss the lifestyle of comparison to standards that were not created by The Father. I still have a lot of work to do in this area. Even now as I write this in a public café, I look around me at bodies and shapes reflecting the former goal of how I wanted my body to be. But I won’t give up on myself, and I am assured that my deliverance is provided by God and my freedom is sustained by my submission to Him.
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