My Weight, My Worth
I remember back to school shopping when I was seven or eight years old. You know, just trying to get prepared for a year of being my fabulous elementary school self! Everything cute was on size small clothing racks, but my mom told me I wouldn’t fit into those. I wouldn’t fit into the items on the medium or large rack either. I was extra-large.
I remember loving sports. Even as a 7 year-old I was on multiple soccer, basketball, and dance teams! I was doing as much exercise as my other friends but I was still a little bit bigger than them physically.
I remember bringing the same things for lunch as my classmates but Julia and Crystal were a size 2 and I was a size 12. I thought I was 6 times their size. That was probably the first multiplication problem I ever did in my life.
When my friends came over to play and parents picked them up, I could hear the conversation between them as they walked down my porch. The questions the parents always asked were, “Did you have fun? What did you do?” When I left my friend’s house the question my parents asked was, “Did you have any unhealthy snacks?”
My weight, my ugliness, my disgustingness has been a constant theme that runs through my head on repeat ever since I was a little girl.
Do you have one thing about you that you wish you could change? Is there one thing that is always on your mind that you wish you could stop thinking about just for a day? Does that one thing affect your relationships? Does it get in the way of you truly loving yourself? Does it consume you? You can list all the positives in the world about yourself but this will always be your negative.
I can’t believe I started to hate myself so young. I’m amazed I could hurt that early.
I used to wonder if I could ever get to the point where I fully accepted myself. I can’t remember a day in my life that the scale on the bathroom floor did not haunt me. The one thing that was always in the way was my relationship with my body.
The day of hurt that I relive most was when my mom took me to the nutritionist. I have the best mother in the world. I know everyone says that. But really, my mom is the absolute greatest. She is crazy, fun, smart, artistic, cuddly, and caring. She cared for me so much that when she noticed my weight was a problem she brought me to the best hospital for kids to see the best nutritionist for kids. I can still feel the rage inside of me to this day- the same rage I had at that meeting. I remember a very smart nutritionist and my very loving mother looking at me and telling me I am physically “too much.” I nodded my head when we went over the food pyramid. I smiled when we talked about exercise. I cried the entire car ride home thinking to myself that I, literally me, physically me, my person, my human is too much. I am too much to handle. I am too much to love.
After that appointmentI didn’t allow myself to hear “I love you.” “I care about you.” “I am proud of you.” I only heard “let’s weigh you.” “That’s too much of a portion for you.” “That is too small for you.”
It’s really hard to accept your weight when others criticize it, or when you are told that your weight is unhealthy, unattractive, or wrong.
It’s really hard to accept your weight when everyone around you hates their weight, is trying the latest diet, or only shows off the good and never talk about the bad.
It is really hard when your weight moves beyond insecurity into shame.
I have spent so much of my life running from my weight, hiding behind jokes, trying to be one step ahead of everyone else’s taunts and judgements. It is just exhausting. Throughout my journey I have learned that judgement and silence allow shame to grow and that empathy and respect are what stop shame from taking over.
I decided to let others listen to the narrative I played on repeat in my head regarding how I looked at myself. Believe it or not, my view of my body started to change when I brought that inner shame into broad daylight. When I vocalized what I thought about myself, I was finally able to hear other thoughts beside my own. I was told “You are Gold.” “You are important.” “You are ravishing.” “You are loved.” These simple three word sentences from others started to melt away that shame. The best feeling was when I shared and someone else could truly understand, regardless of their size, because they have thought the same things about themselves. Hearing the two words “me too” are what saved me. I realized that I was not alone. I found empathy.
I was finally able to take steps to love myself once I encountered the power of respect and the beauty of inherent dignity. I realized that my weight is not the sum of my worth and I am finally able to celebrate who I am! My value doesn't decrease because my weight increases. My value doesn't decrease because someone else doesn't appreciate me and my body. My value doesn't decrease because I'm blind to my own strength sometimes. I am always enough. I have learned that I can still love and accept myself whilst wanting to improve. The two are not mutually exclusive. I have been able to accept that the number on the scale and the feelings that go with them are just temporary facts that are a part of a much longer and much better story.