MY BODY, MY SHAME
I have never been happy in my body, never been content with the way it is or has been. I have lost and gained weight many times over the course of my life and have been in good shape and then sometimes not. I seem to always need a reason to go to the gym and eat healthy, whether it be I am doing a stair climb, a 5k, meeting a new person or going on a trip, often these are months out. But I am never doing it just for me, or because I need to feel good and be healthy.
I am not so much an over eater as just eating the wrong things at the wrong times and not enough of the good stuff. I think stress often plays a part. When I was pregnant with my son 30 years ago, I did over eat. I think the stress of being pregnant, the person I was pregnant with and my overall frustration of life in general at the time. Even though, I was very happy at the thought of being someone’s mommy, all those other factors figured in. I gained a massive 60 lbs during pregnancy and most likely the cause for me to have a c-section. I will say it enabled me more time with my son after the birth, and then went on to ask for two more months off because I could not stand the thought of my two month-old going to daycare. Four months old was no better, incidentally.
I pushed the scale at 201 at one point. Which is about 30 more than what I weight now. I can’t even imagine that. That was turning point for me. I had to be better. I remember when my son was younger, I didn’t want any pictures because I was so heavy, so none were taken. My husband was not helpful, I felt fat shamed a lot of the time; I just didn’t know the name of it in the 90’s. But it felt terrible, which also made me want to eat more.
Sugar has been my friend, sugar is always there and readily available. I don’t have to go to a dark street corner to get my fix, I can walk into a store where it is legal to buy any snack or cake or cookie I want, it’s socially acceptable to do this and it’s cheap to eat crappy food.
I remember whenever I would have an argument with my son as a teenager or he was going through something at school, I ate. Tough discussions with my friends or family and I would want to eat. My favorite is pizza and cookies, I could always talk myself into a pizza and blow through the whole thing and feel like shit after. Even though I hated feeling like that, I still would do it. The only time it’s easier for me to be in the moment is when I am eating.
In some ways, I feel as if this is my little girl trying to express herself. I wasn’t allowed to speak my truth as a child. I was constantly suppressing my voice. Feeling as if I was always lying, someone else’s lie, by the way. Though as a child, I don’t remember eating to excess, maybe because I didn’t have control over what was bought. As an adult, I can buy whatever I want. I can afford pretty much what ever food my heart desires. So I did, sometimes still do.
I feel like the tide is changing though, as if I am really making a break through with myself. I am letting myself, less and less, feel as if I deserve sugary foods and making it more of a choice I can make to ingest something sweet or not.
I went to an adoptee writing retreat this weekend. The food and eating came up and what was the result of that was astonishing, but yet so simple.
If I am eating, I can’t be talking. I am shoving my words down my own throat with food to keep from saying the things I need to say.
So maybe the answer is to speak up more and eat less. Work on speaking my mind and saying what I feel will fix my need to eat. I know that this is not going to be the end all to my eating issues, because I still need to feel good enough in my body no matter what I weight I am. I am getting there too.
Feeling as if I don’t belong is big, feeling as if I don’t fit in, these things play a part. There will probably always be a certain amount of self-doubt in my life, I think that’s normal. But I am on a road to recovery and rediscovery.