The War Against Food

My body and I have never gotten along. I can't remember a time in my life where I ever felt happy with how I look. Even when I was in kindergarten, I was made to feel fat by seriously misguided relatives who would make me drink diet soda and eat food with artificial sweeteners. It's hard to love one's image and self when they've been trained to think they are ugly. It takes a long time and a long look through pictures before one realizes, "I was beautiful, dammit." I've reached that point.

As usual, I'm not happy with my body. As usual, I'm trying to do something about it. So far, that something has been to work out more and make healthier eating choices. However, the biggest change I have made in regards to my relationship to food is that I no longer eat when I'm sad. Or angry. Or stressed. I've broken up with food as my comfort buddy, and I feel really good about it.

It's amazing how often I used to reach out to nibble on something when I was feeling bad. If I was sad, a snack always cheered me up. If I was stressed, I could grab a really sweet Starbucks coffee and be fine. But the thing is, all of these actions are crutches. I don't feel any better once those things have been digested. And I certainly don't feel better when I step on the scale and see what they did to me.  It's a vicious cycle. Feel bad, eat. Realize you gained weight, feel bad. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Only now I see what I've been doing to myself, and I'm not going to continue it anymore.

I am declaring a war against food. Not as sustenance, because we all need food to live, but as therapy. If I feel sad, I'm going to cry. If I feel angry, I'm going to walk to cool off. If I feel stressed, I'm going to watch cute cat videos on Youtube. But I refuse to use food to make me feel better anymore, because it never has and it never will.

 This is me breaking the cycle. this is me saying I have always been beautiful. I will always be beautiful. And I'm leaving something that hurts me.

RG

Contact

It's good to keep in touch with people. That usually hasn't been a strong point of mine in the past, but it's yet another thing I'm working on. Last night I met with some folks I hadn't sat down and really spoken to in over a year. It was amazing.

I always worry about keeping in touch with others. Sometimes they don't want you to talk to them. Sometimes they're just as shy about it. But I've never regretted the times I have reached out to people I haven't spoken to in a while. Especially this group. Whenever we're together, I get such a happy rush of memories. It's very comforting to see that they have stayed stable when others have fractured. It makes me want to reach out more, but as usual, I worry.

There are so many figures from my life that I have loved. Some I've kept, some are misplaced, some are lost. I wonder how it is that people ended up in those places for me. Did I change? Did they? Did we both? As I reassess who I am and where I'm going, I've been thinking about who I consider to be closest to me. And if I claim they are close to me, why the heck don't I talk to them more often? I mean, I know we're all big boys and girls now with jobs and bills and lives, but we had some special times. We had connections that helped me grow to where I am now, and I'm so grateful to them. But that's a weird way to start a conversation, isn't it? "Hi, it's me. I know you haven't heard from me in a while, but you've helped make me who I am and I love you for it." 

Maybe I'm still too shy. But at least I'm working on it.

RG